I have a co-worker who is a volunteer EMT nurse.
Today I had chest pains at work, and I was short of breath. This isn’t a new thing for me. It happened yesterday and it’s happened before. I just don’t mention it because I don’t like to be a whiner and I don’t like to have people worry. Because to me it either feels like an anxiety attack. Or sometimes it feels like indegestion. I don’t want to go to the ER and have them say “Oh it’s just indigestion, you’re fat, stop eating.” So I don’t say anything.
Today I said something. And I got visited by 10. Swear to God 10. EMTs. Apparently it was slow and they had nothing to do. I got a free EGC. I got told to go to the ER. Because something happened. Not today. But at sometime something happened to my heart, the EMT said that it looked like something had happened but he couldn’t tell. And that I should go get blood work and an EKG and that they were worried that if I didn’t and that if I went back to work I would drop dead. I shouldn’t say that. Because it just didn’t seem like that dramatic. They really wanted to put me on the stretcher and take me in the ambulance. But I wouldn’t let them. I can’t do that. I don’t care, unless I’m unresponsive I won’t take an ambulance to the hospital. I already owe the damn hospital 6 grand. And I know it’s my health.
What it comes down to is I have to do something. I have to somehow change. I wish that this was my wake up call and I just all of a sudden change my life around and turn into a long distance runner. And loose 100lbs in a year. But that’s not going to happen. How am I supposed to go for walks after work when I can barely stay standing at work because my feet hurt so bad. Even with the amazing insoles that I have now my feet still are unbearable by the end of a shift. I’ve already stopped drinking soda. I’ve stopped replacing it with sweet tea. I’ve cut down my portions. I haven’t seen a change. I’m going to get a pedometer to show people how much walking I do during my shifts. I jog around the damn store. People see me doing this. I have to do this to get around quicker because usually when I have to do a price check its at the other end of the damn store. Have you been to a Walmart lately?! THEY’RE HUGE! So why does nothing change? I don’t eat candy. I don’t eat cake. I don’t eat fast food every day. Actually I haven’t had fast food in a couple weeks or more now.
I don’t know what to do. I can’t just start seeing a doctor. I can make an appointment with the community health care clinic and hope to get in before the pain magically stops or before I have to make a trip to the ER. But I know what they’re going to say. They’re going to say: “You’re 100lbs over weight.” “You’re stressed out and possibly have anxiety issues.” I know all of this. So why pay someone to tell me this. When they can’t fix it. They can’t fix my weight problems, unless I can get emergency liposuction. They can only prescribe pills that I can’t afford for the anxiety. So why go when I already know what’s going to happen?
So I came home from work and told Jesse and he says “let’s go to the hospital.” I’m the one saying no. Because I know what is going to be said to me. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand going to the ER and sitting and waiting and crying because I know how much it’s going to cost. I don’t cry because it hurts or I’m worried about my health. I cry because I know how much it’s going to cost. And yes I know how much a possible “heart attack” will cost to my body. Ugh.