heart rate

Why do you have to be a heartbreaker…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I have an app that is designed to monitor symptoms of chronic illness. I wear a monitor on my wrist to check my heart rate, oxygen level, quality of sleep etc. It’s helpful. It warns me when my vital stats are out of sink. It records my heart rate variation, which is a big indicator of how well my body is coping. It has also been good to have an accurate idea of how much sleep I am getting (not much). You can rate symptoms every day and compare over time how various issues are affecting you. Overall, would recommend the app.

There’s just one thing that gets me down. The final thing that is recorded daily is ‘crash’. Basically, did I run out steam that day. Sadly, the answer is yes. Sometimes my energy tank is empty before reaching the dat’s destination. Other times pain takes me out. Others, still,I get too dizzy to continue. Lucky me, some days it’s a combination of all three. Of course this means that I rarely accomplish what I wanted (or needed) to. It frustrating and depressing and often really destructive. Constantly saying ‘I can’t’ wreaks havoc with every aspect of life. Be it personal or professional, I’m letting people down and it kills me. The guilt is enormous. As is the disappointment. I’m ambitious; my head is crammed with ideas and I had a very different life planned. Not being able to execute my plans in a grand or minute way is heartbreaking. 

That’s the thing about chronic illness, it breaks your heart and you just have to carry on. I’m continually having to find a different way to operate. My lists of can’ts is forever growing and changing, thus I must be flexible. I’m working with a different set of tools and I try to remember that. However, always ticking that box is a daily downer, which happens to be another intrinsic part of being chronically ill. It’s not often that the big things floor me. The huge issues pull all your focus into jus getting through it. It’s an hour by hour what needs to happen to come out the other side of this. There’s no time for dissecting. It’s the drip drip of daily symptoms that really torture me. The dreaded realisation that this thing is here to stay, that’s what fucks me up.

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Something’s gotten hold of my heart…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

As I have mentioned, more than once, I having been some extra health issues. Yesterday I saw my GP and she gave me some answers. Unfortunately they were neither want I expected or wanted them to be.

It seems that long covid has become permanent a more of a problem. The tachycardia and breathlessness that I have been experiencing since having covid in Oct 2020 have been significantly worse over the last few months. I am breathless after a few steps. My head spins the minute I stand up. I faint daily. My heart tries to burst out of my body and my chest hurts. All the time. In the past when I felt like this it has been related to aneamia & b12 deficiency. I have had lots of issues with really low haemoglobin and although I never get to ‘normal’ my bloods aren’t dangerously low at the moment. We did a bunch of treatment, but I didn’t feel any different. I had some more tests, kept a symptom diary and recorded my heart rate a few times a day. My GP’s conclusion is that covid has damaged my heart function.

She is fairly certain that I have some kind of heart arrhythmia or PoTS. The prospect of neither fills me with joy; PoTS in particular is very frightening. I have been referred to cardiology and more tests will ensue. I really expected these issues to be related to existing conditions. It was a shock to be presented with a possible new diagnosis. The thought of these symptoms not improving or even worsening is overwhelming. I have enough health problems. I don’t need anymore.

All of this to say two things. Covid is no joke. Even if you get through the initial illness ok, there is no telling what it will do to your body. Please don’t pretend this pandemic is over. There are still huge communities that of sick and disabled people who are high risk. Even healthy people can be really badly effected. Wear a mask, keep your distance, wash your hands! None of these things are hard to do. And, I am feeling scrambled. I don’t know how to process this new information. Physically I am a mess. I’m very apprehensive of what is to come & my head is all over the place. So, please bear with me if things get inconsistent around here.

close up of ly’s face wearing brightly coloured mas and thick black glasses

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Doctor, doctor…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 5 Comments

The universe obviously thought my life was going a little to smoothly, so she threw me a little kidney shaped drama. 

I woke in the night with excruciating upper abdominal & chest pain. Violent throwing up followed by passing out left me a tad perturbed. It was actually a little scary as the chest symptoms mirrored all the things you read in heart attack warnings. More passing out & worsening pain led to a call to NHS 24 who swiftly sent an ambulance. 

The paramedics did a heart trace & found me to be more tachycardic than just pain could account for. To be honest I think the culprit for my racing heart was sheer panic at finding myself in a bloody ambulance. Anyway, an empty a&e and some very nice medical folk soon led to a diagnosis; an inflamed kidney. 


At the just kill me stage.

I had yet another kidney infection, which had caused my kidney to become in inflamed with sheer indignation. I can’t really blame my poor kidney. The number of kidney & urinary tract infections I’ve had in the past 12mths is ridiculous. I was admitted to surgical ward, given fluids, morphine & monitored. 

It looks like I might have tiny kidney stones. These little bastards are causing all the trouble. I need to have a detailed scan later this week. If there are stones lurking they can be broken up with ultra sound waves. Which, overall is good outcome. I am always delighted when drs can give me answers. 


Progressed to I can stand the pain, but I hate hospital stage. 

For the time being I am glad to be home & reallly hoping this will spell an end to all the kidney issues. Another hospital stay & resultant recovery time has put a serious dent in my productivity. So, I am currently stressing about the enormous backlog of tasks I have. I’m behind in everything from housework to writing, personal grooming to fundraising. Spoonie life is anxiety ridden. 

Oh, serious brownie points to the toy boy for taking excellent care of me. Big tick in all the boyfriend nursing boxes. He brought me jelly, fed my cat, fetched me fresh knickers & listened to hours of my morphine addaled chatter. He even got me a cute get well card. Thanks, babe.