I had a situation occur when I had reached my peak weight. I hated driving the Brush Bus, and I was trying really hard not to get upset. The situation at home was really bad (when wasn't it?) and I started sweating and got chest pains too. I know the signs, but it didn't feel like anything other than the stress, so I mentioned it to the dentist on the bus, and she went into a panic. They sat me down and took my BP which was a little high. Then, they forced me to drive to the hospital.
Anyway, I did the stress test, and even went back for an angiogram, where they stick the needle into the groin and shoot fluid into the heart to observe for abnormalities.
All test results were negative, and the angiogram was clear. They said my arteries were in great shape. I had expected to be told that I was dying because my Mom had died so young and I was right around her age.
They finally told me they think I just had a panic attack. I would usually deny that kind of thing, but I decided to think about it for some stupid reason.
I decided they were right. It was stupid for me to have an anxiety attack. I wasn't crazy, just stressed out because I really wasn't doing what I wanted, in any part of my life.
That was the time that I decided to start praying because there was nothing else I could do except walk away from my life.
So, I started out by yelling in the car, and yelling in the bus when no one else was there. I quit my job and went back to school bus driving, and felt better. Less stress (can you believe that?) and more recovery time, so I could start working towards a real future.
I bought stuff for myself without consulting Donna, and that made her mad, but I did it anyway.
I kicked my son and his brood out.
It was the start of my change.
My prayer:
Dear God,
Kill me or make me better.
Guess what He did?
It's a long slow road for me, and it never moves fast enough, but it is moving forward.
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