My story begins nine years ago. I was 15 years old the first time I experienced Syncope (loss of consciousness), just a Junior in high school. I remember walking to my Anatomy class, stomach churning, vision blurring. Perhaps it was just nerves from the exam I was about to take. As I sat down and got out my testing supplies, I remember feeling so far away - as though I was stuck in a fog. I got my test and told myself to focus. There was no reason I should suddenly become Ill, even if it were just test anxiety and nerves. As I finished my test, I stood up immediately, there was no more holding off the nausea that had only been worsening since the beginning of class. As I worked my way up to the front of the classroom, I felt my body sway. I could feel so many eyes on me as I ran into chairs and desks that were within my path. My ears began to ring. "Where are you going, Aaren?" my teacher asked, "There's no way you're done with your exam already." I opened my mouth to tell her I was going to be sick, but no words came out. I was the absolute definition of delirious and confused. I remember following the walls, feeling my way to the hall and entering through some metal doors, in search for the bathroom. I looked forward, and through blurry eyes, saw a set of stairs and a sign that pointed to where the restrooms would be. I remember taking a few steps and then wondering to myself, "Why am I covered in sweat? Why is it that i'm shaking?" I took a few steps more, and then all I recall is simply falling.
Upon waking, I reached for my head. It had been throbbing and I was sure I had banged it on the metal door at the bottom of the stairs. Just then another student from my class burst through the doors and yelled for someone to find help. Apparently I had taken a wrong turn to the nearest bathroom and a few students were let out of class to help find me. Before I knew it, I was being examined by paramedics, who assured me that I was going to be okay. You see, unbeknownst to me this would be the first of many times I would be told this. This was the first time my P.O.T.S had been described as ANXIETY.
My mom arrived at the scene, very confused as to what was going on. She asked me if i'd be more comfortable going to the hospital with her, or going on my first ambulance ride. You'll notice she did not give me a choice of continuing my day at school (great mom award goes to Mamma Shamburg!). I chose to go with her, as i knew she would let me ramble on and on about the many ways i was sure i was dying. A four hour wait and a quick examination later and I was on my way.
"Have you considered the possibility of having anxiety?" the E.R doctor would ask. But I hadn't ever considered having anxiety. This sentence left me speechless and with no answers for almost ten years after the fact. How could I have passed out from being nervous? I didn't feel I was THAT nervous for my test. In fact, I was sure that even though I had been sick that I would still pass that exam. Anxiety. Maybe I HAD been nervous since this was my first real test at a new school. "It's just anxiety." I explained on the phone to my very worried dad. I would be okay. I would take the meds they prescribed me and I wouldn't pass out again.
This is the impression I was left with for the next ten years of my life. I allowed the word "anxiety" to eat through me and would blame my shy demeanor on that diagnosis. I let that label become me, as I pushed away from the friends I had, and questioned those who approached me.
I let one doctor and one sentence possess and become me...
"It's Just Anxiety."
Comments
Post a Comment