PTSD or just T

Right now, I feel like vomiting. Maybe I am not supposed to blog it or admit it, but the truth is that that is the way I feel. My niece and her boyfriend and my nephew (all in their late 20's) just went out with Doug to a bar or two. Sorry, but the truth is that 2 out of 3 of them in my opinion drink too much. So they sit in the kitchen with the adults having a beer before they go out and I am so upset about this that I have to run away and hide before I start yelling and screaming at my sibling and spouse. Why the hell would you let that happen while at the same time reminding them of the need to be careful tonite in terms of drinking too much. I know different parents have a different take on things but in my book this is a no brainer...It is just stupidity. We are not our children's friends, we are their parents. And maybe I will change my mind when my son is their children's age but to allow them to have a beer or 2 or 3 before going out to get hammered is irresponsible.

So I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs AND crying with fear and hysteria.

Hysteria is a good way to explain how I have been feeling off and on this week and it has been hard to shake it. Emotionally, I have been hysterical...while to the naked eye I look and act fine. This is a skill I have perfected since Jeff died. I know it is one every parent who has had a child die knows only too well.

Saturday morning I had the scare of my life. Figuratively and literally. I was working out at the Y for roughly 30 minutes at which point I started to get this killer of a headache. No pun intended. On a scale of 1 to 10 it was a 9.99. Got home and realized that it was time to admit to myself what had been going on. I had had this kind of a headache 5 times over the past couple of months. Headaches precede cerebral aneurysms. Cerebral aneurysms run in families. Jeff died of a cerebral aneurysm. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that it was time to call my doctor. So I called my doctor and got the answering service. She wasn't on call. I called her cell phone which I have because of my close relationship with her (which followed Jeff's death). I left a message. Didn't hear from her so I called the answering service again and left a message. I then showed John where my health care proxy form was, gave him some instructions about where some other forms where, told him that I needed him to promise me that he would take care of Doug and went to take a shower so that I would at least be clean before I went to the ER. After my shower, I spoke to the doctor on call who told me that I should go into the Emergency Room and that they would give me an MRI. I texted my own doctor informing her that I was going to the ER only to have her call me back a minute later. I spoke to her for awhile. She asked a lot of questions about my headaches and the circumstances surrounding them. When she heard that they were all associated with exercising, she asked me a number of questions about proper hydration and commented that she thought that my headaches could be due to dehydration. She told me that I was welcome to go to the ER but that the ER would likely keep me waiting awhile (as I got more anxious) and then take a CT scan (which was not the right test but cheaper than an MRI) and send me home to see her (my primary care physician) on Monday.

I didn't go to the ER. I decided to wait until Monday at which point I could chat with my primary care physician again and she could order an MRI which would require prior approval by my insurance company.

I continued to worry (aka be hysterical but hold it in) until I reached my sister who is a nurse. She listened and was of course quite concerned. Called me back a minute after we hung up to tell me that her son a number of years ago went for an MRI for the same set of symptoms where they concluded it was dehydration causing the problem.

I then began to feel that perhaps my doctor was not just telling me something that I wanted to hear so as not to worry me, but perhaps she was actually making a wise diagnosis given the situation.

It is now 3 days later and given the holiday I am hoping to have my MRI scheduled for next week.

As I write this, I feel in many ways like I felt the first few days after Jeff died. I feel like my hand is typing but what occurred really didn't occur to me, it occurred to someone else.

At the same time, I continue to feel anxiety associated with not yet knowing why these headaches occurred and wanting desperately some peace of mind. I am drinking less coffee (which dehydrates you) and more water. And I constantly am feeling the flow of blood in my brain.

Thinking that you are going to die of a cerebral aneurysm is a terrifying experience. The most terrifying aspect of it was (is?) thinking about Doug and what my death would mean to him given the weight of his brother Jeff's death. I shudder to even type those words never mind think about this as a possibility for Doug's life.

Jeff's death taught me that anything can happen. When the unthinkable happens, than the likelihood of other unthinkable events happening is ever so real to you.

The thought of me having a cerebral aneurysm petrifies me. I think of Doug. I remember that I had a MRI in 2007 to rule out an aneurysm. I didn't get one for Doug because Jim didn't want him to have one. As I recall, once a cerebral aneurysm is found, they can tie it off. This may prevent death but not without serious consequences in terms of mental incapacitation.

I think about Jeff and about him in that hospital bed. I think about his being hooked up to those machines and the sound of the ventilator. And me talking to him about the fact that he was strong willed and could get through this ok.

Jeff didn't get through it ok. Tonite I feel like I won't ever get through it ok. Neither will Doug.

Post traumatic stress disease/syndrome...perhaps not in its entirety...but the trauma will remain with me always.