(Excerpt from my writing published on whole life, full soul)
6.8% of U.S. women, less than the age of 34, have high blood pressure; a statistic that I never imagined that I would be a part of at the ripe age of 28. Happily married, in the throws of a master’s degree program (nearly finished), and less than a week into basking in the emotional sunshine of newfound motherhood, I knew I was strong, but strength hadn’t reached its full potential in my life. It wasn’t until this year, that I’ve realized what strength truly encompasses. How beautiful it would be to grow as strong as an earthed tree, yet avoid all the tears and turmoil it took to get there; maybe in another life.
This journey to strength realized, began in February 2014. I remember lying on a gurney, watching my husband sit calmly at the foot of my bed, as I breathed uncontrolled breaths of panic, while more then 10 nurses and doctors, worked diligently to save my life. My heart rate was 39 beats per minute and my blood pressure measured at an alarming 200s/100s; to say that I was fearful of losing my life is an understatement. After receiving to many drugs to count, feeling as if my heart would pound out of my chest as the heart monitor swiftly increased to 120 beats per minute, I pleaded silently to God for my life; I wasn’t ready to go, and my three day old daughter at home in the comfort of my mother’s arms, needed me.
My life was spared, but the peculiar phenomenon that caused my vessels to tighten, slowing my heart rate to near death persisted; from that point on, life would not be life without medication. For someone who had known everything there was about high blood pressure, how to treat it, and the detailed steps on how to prevent it, as an avid nurse practitioner student, it didn’t matter how much knowledge I had at that point, that point in my life when I received a chronic diagnosis. When you’re sick with a cold and you know without a shadow of a doubt that it will be gone in less then three weeks, there’s a weird sort of aggravated calm that comes over you, understanding that those watery eyes, runny nose, and stuffy head, will come and go, but never leave you miserable forever. But there is just something so eery about the word “chronic”, a likely forever term.
It was a hard pill to swallow, literally. I emotionally went through all stages of grief…
(Excerpt from my writing published on whole life, full soul. Visit this inspiring site to read more)