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Again, with apologies to those who know what they're doing.
I opened my eyes to discover the world had gone sideways. By which, I mean, I was laying on the floor on my side, something soft-ish tucked under my head like a pillow. I was clutching my notebook and pen in my arms with a death grip, as one does when one is, well, let's just say I was more out of my element than usual. A pair of legs came into view, and I tried to follow them up to see who they belonged to, but things went a little spinny so I had to close my eyes in a hurry, and made a noise somewhere between a groan and a squeak. A cold damp cloth was laid across my forehead - oh, such relief! - and what I assume was a bottle of water was nudged into my hand. I opened my eyes again and saw that it was Mac, now kneeling by me, encouraging me to drink. The bottle was uncapped already, but I was still prone, so I did my best to take a sip and not douse myself in the process.
The first hit didn't make it much past my lips - I had to swish it around to un-stick my teeth from the inside of my mouth and my tongue from the roof of my mouth. The parched tissue pretty much soaked up everything, leaving nothing to swallow. I repeated this process a couple times until I found that I could, finally, swallow some water. I'd mostly had my eyes closed during this, but could still feel Mac's presence near me. He was close, but not too close. Guessing this wasn't his first rodeo, either.
I was about to attempt to speak when the door to the place flew open and two sets of feet came thundering down the stairs.
"Mac?" the man shouted, sounding a little stressed
"Mrfnp," was the reply, indicating our location on the far wall behind the tables.
I opened my eyes, more slowly this time, to see Mutt & Jeff make their way towards us.
After a few moments of too-low-to-hear discussion between the three vertical participants in this comedy, the woman made her way to me and sat down on the floor.
"Hi there. My name is Karrin. Do you understand?" she said, softly. I nodded, and found that it didn't make the world spin, so I focused on keeping my eyes open.
"You gave Mac quite a scare. Can you tell me what happened?"
I continued to look past her at nothing. My brain was starting to short-circuit again and I really didn't need anyone else involved in this tonight. I took a deep breath and shook my head no. But then I realized I was holding my notebook, so I fumbled with it until I could get to the first page, flipped the cover back, and shoved it in her general direction.
I continued to sip my water while Karrin read, and could sense the two men had moved away from us but were still very much present. Hovering without hovering. Impressive.
Karrin put the paper down and steeled herself.
"OK, V, may I check your pulse on your left wrist?" That was not at all how this usually begins. I usually have to suffer from all manner of vague and unhelpful interrogation to get to anything that might be useful to either of us.
I nodded in agreement, and only flinched a little when I felt her hand take my left wrist. I was still looking past her, but could see that she was frowning, and then one eyebrow shot up.
"your pulse is 110; is it always this high?" she asked, sliding into what I call the Mr Rogers voice. The one they use when you're on the edge - sanity, dying, whatever. I nodded again, and tried to say "tachy," but it came out more un-word-like, so I smiled at the joke that only I will get, bestowed upon me by an ICU nurse many years ago.
"really?" she pushed, and I smiled and nodded again. Her expression indicated that she was very much NOT believing this was "normal," but she'd have to believe it, at least for now.
She continued the once-over, starting with my head and working her way down, always asking before touching me. Her concern initially was for obvious physical injuries, reasons I could sue or might need actual medical attention. The only pain was the nonstop systemic ache of multiple chronic illnesses (a 6, if you must know). I was able to sit up, but made quite a racket while doing so (vocally and via crunchy joints) so when she looked alarmed and started to ask "Is that ..." I immediately nodded and mouthed "normal," and hoped my laugh registered as one.
When they realized that I had moved, the two guys joined us, and Karrin gave her report.
"Her name is Violet, V. She must've slid out of her chair slowly - no acute head injury that I could find. She's got a lot of chronic health issues, so it'll be hard kn-- Whoa!"
My eyes had gone wild and I tried to curl into myself as much as my overweight and arthritic limbs would allow. So many things hit me at once, things I will never un-see. Panic crept back as I mentally searched for an escape...
"Dresden!" Karrin barked. The tall not-Mac man stopped his approach, confused. Her voice tempered a bit, "why don't you and Mac sit at that table so you're not looming over her?" as I squeezed my eyes tight and shoved my hands into my hair, making fists, pulling, trying to make the rapid-fire fun house ferris wheel of images go away.
"V? V? can you hear me?" Karrin asked again, with the slightest hint of panic in her still-steady voice. I gave her a short nod.
"OK, can you breathe along with me? In. and out. and in. and out. That's it, nice and steady."
I got my breathing to match hers and willed my mental Mr Toad's Wild Ride to bugger off once again.
I opened my eyes to discover the world had gone sideways. By which, I mean, I was laying on the floor on my side, something soft-ish tucked under my head like a pillow. I was clutching my notebook and pen in my arms with a death grip, as one does when one is, well, let's just say I was more out of my element than usual. A pair of legs came into view, and I tried to follow them up to see who they belonged to, but things went a little spinny so I had to close my eyes in a hurry, and made a noise somewhere between a groan and a squeak. A cold damp cloth was laid across my forehead - oh, such relief! - and what I assume was a bottle of water was nudged into my hand. I opened my eyes again and saw that it was Mac, now kneeling by me, encouraging me to drink. The bottle was uncapped already, but I was still prone, so I did my best to take a sip and not douse myself in the process.
The first hit didn't make it much past my lips - I had to swish it around to un-stick my teeth from the inside of my mouth and my tongue from the roof of my mouth. The parched tissue pretty much soaked up everything, leaving nothing to swallow. I repeated this process a couple times until I found that I could, finally, swallow some water. I'd mostly had my eyes closed during this, but could still feel Mac's presence near me. He was close, but not too close. Guessing this wasn't his first rodeo, either.
I was about to attempt to speak when the door to the place flew open and two sets of feet came thundering down the stairs.
"Mac?" the man shouted, sounding a little stressed
"Mrfnp," was the reply, indicating our location on the far wall behind the tables.
I opened my eyes, more slowly this time, to see Mutt & Jeff make their way towards us.
After a few moments of too-low-to-hear discussion between the three vertical participants in this comedy, the woman made her way to me and sat down on the floor.
"Hi there. My name is Karrin. Do you understand?" she said, softly. I nodded, and found that it didn't make the world spin, so I focused on keeping my eyes open.
"You gave Mac quite a scare. Can you tell me what happened?"
I continued to look past her at nothing. My brain was starting to short-circuit again and I really didn't need anyone else involved in this tonight. I took a deep breath and shook my head no. But then I realized I was holding my notebook, so I fumbled with it until I could get to the first page, flipped the cover back, and shoved it in her general direction.
If you are reading this, that means I need help. My name is Violet. You can call me V. While there are a plethora of medical and psychological things wrong with me, with an equally long list of medications and professionals, the tl;dr is that my brain has most likely short-circuited, and I am going to struggle to communicate until I can reboot.
If it's loud, bright or hot, I need to get somewhere that's cool, dark and quiet, and I will need water.
I can answer simple, specific yes or no questions, but it might take a minute.
No, there is no one you can call to help.
Please state what you are doing BEFORE you do it. I don't react well to being touched.
In no particular order, here are the official diagnoses:
-Sjögren's
-fibromyalgia
....pression
......ty
........, mixed episodes
I continued to sip my water while Karrin read, and could sense the two men had moved away from us but were still very much present. Hovering without hovering. Impressive.
Karrin put the paper down and steeled herself.
"OK, V, may I check your pulse on your left wrist?" That was not at all how this usually begins. I usually have to suffer from all manner of vague and unhelpful interrogation to get to anything that might be useful to either of us.
I nodded in agreement, and only flinched a little when I felt her hand take my left wrist. I was still looking past her, but could see that she was frowning, and then one eyebrow shot up.
"your pulse is 110; is it always this high?" she asked, sliding into what I call the Mr Rogers voice. The one they use when you're on the edge - sanity, dying, whatever. I nodded again, and tried to say "tachy," but it came out more un-word-like, so I smiled at the joke that only I will get, bestowed upon me by an ICU nurse many years ago.
"really?" she pushed, and I smiled and nodded again. Her expression indicated that she was very much NOT believing this was "normal," but she'd have to believe it, at least for now.
She continued the once-over, starting with my head and working her way down, always asking before touching me. Her concern initially was for obvious physical injuries, reasons I could sue or might need actual medical attention. The only pain was the nonstop systemic ache of multiple chronic illnesses (a 6, if you must know). I was able to sit up, but made quite a racket while doing so (vocally and via crunchy joints) so when she looked alarmed and started to ask "Is that ..." I immediately nodded and mouthed "normal," and hoped my laugh registered as one.
When they realized that I had moved, the two guys joined us, and Karrin gave her report.
"Her name is Violet, V. She must've slid out of her chair slowly - no acute head injury that I could find. She's got a lot of chronic health issues, so it'll be hard kn-- Whoa!"
My eyes had gone wild and I tried to curl into myself as much as my overweight and arthritic limbs would allow. So many things hit me at once, things I will never un-see. Panic crept back as I mentally searched for an escape...
"Dresden!" Karrin barked. The tall not-Mac man stopped his approach, confused. Her voice tempered a bit, "why don't you and Mac sit at that table so you're not looming over her?" as I squeezed my eyes tight and shoved my hands into my hair, making fists, pulling, trying to make the rapid-fire fun house ferris wheel of images go away.
"V? V? can you hear me?" Karrin asked again, with the slightest hint of panic in her still-steady voice. I gave her a short nod.
"OK, can you breathe along with me? In. and out. and in. and out. That's it, nice and steady."
I got my breathing to match hers and willed my mental Mr Toad's Wild Ride to bugger off once again.