LIVING MY BEST LIFE

Some background info

Since the beginning of the pandemic when I reopened my store after mandatory closure (and a bit longer to enjoy the summer), I had a mask mandate (and so did the state of NJ). Even after the vaccines hit the market (yes I am fully vaxxed), I had a mask mandate. Even when the CDC and the state of NJ said we can unmask, I had a mask mandate. I have never stopped masking. I have suspected ME/CFS (there’s no one definitive test, but a combination of tests and symptoms), chronic Lyme and a thyroid disorder. Also, my husband (now 62) was coming to an age where COVID could be more dangerous. My utmost priority was NOT getting COVID and protecting my family. I also didn’t want the flu, RSV, or any other airborne pathogen that was circulating. I took precautions to protect myself as best I could. I bought and used a high quality air purifier, I installed HEPA filters on my air conditioner/heating system. I left the window opened (in all weather conditions) near my register when the store was busy. And of course I was masked with N95s. I Well let me tell you, there was so much hate and vitriol from customers who stumbled on my store. My regular customers were great and never had an issue wearing a mask. I truly miss them 🙂

I had notices on Facebook, my website, and my front door that I required masking. This however didn’t stop people from cursing at me, mocking me that I still mask, or coming in unmasked. In early December 2023, two women entered my store unmasked. Normally I catch people at the door, but the store was packed. Fortunately, one of my regular customers was in the store and told these women they needed a mask. The customer then asked my daughter who was in the back to get these women masks. Yes, I handed out masks to anyone who needed them at MY expense. So after they put on masks, they asked a few questions about some yarns, project, and needles, they paid and asked me to wind the yarn. The store was now empty except for these women (a mother/daughter) and myself. My daughter went out to the barn to get some air. As I was winding their yarn, they proceeded to tell me that the only reason they came out to get yarn today is because the older woman’s (the mother) husband was home sick with COVID. I lost it . . . I exclaimed, “Are you kidding me? You walked into my store unmasked despite a sign on my door and you’ve both been exposed to COVID?” I then told them to wait outside for their yarn or just leave and I will refund their purchase. I wanted them out of my airspace IMMEDIATELY. I then proceeded to open all the windows (the air purifier is always on high) and of course I had on my mask. They said they still wanted the yarn and waited outside. I finished winding the yarn and brought it out to them. I then locked my front door and went into my barn to allow the store to air out. It was almost 4pm (closing time), and I sat in my barn and watched to see if any cars pulled up. They didn’t and I was relieved. Both my daughter and I tested the next day and every 2nd day for 10 days. Luckily we both were negative. I am sure this added to my HBP and possibly to anxiety.

The beginning of the end

Later in December of 2023, I made the trek to Delaware to visit my integrative specialist. During our appointment, she noted that my blood pressure was unusually high for me—145/85—since I’ve historically had low blood pressure. I attributed it to the stress of driving in traffic, but she advised me to keep a log for a few weeks. I did as she suggested and the readings were definitely higher that normal for me, but given that it was the peak of the busy holiday season, and COVID infection was in the back of my mind, I figured the readings were due to stress.

But then I started to worry about other things. I was now almost the age when my dad passed away of his 13th heart-attack, and my daughter was almost the age I was when he did. So off I went to make an appointment with my GP, who I had not seen in years because of the pandemic and unfortunately, I was seen by a different practitioner in the practice. This was January 4, 2024.

She measured my blood pressure, noted my BMI of 29.2, and immediately prescribed Lisinopril (10 mg) for high blood pressure. In hindsight, and after consulting with my current doctors, I learned that this was not the appropriate approach for someone with just borderline high blood pressure. The recommended protocol should have included dietary and lifestyle changes first before medication.

I had never really lost the weight since the birth of my daughter in 2011. Although I was active on the farm, I wasn’t exercising regularly, and my diet, while decent, included too much red meat and butter. The practitioner who prescribed the Lisinopril didn’t discuss any of the diet or lifestyle factors with me and simply handed me the prescription, instructing me to return in three months. 3 MONTHS!!! I took the meds because although I was always very cautious of new medication, I I was not thinking clearly as I started to obsess over my death. Why? I have no idea!

After just two days on Lisinopril, I experienced blurry vision and what I initially thought was a urinary tract infection (UTI). On Saturday January 6, 2024 I went to urgent care for the UTI. On Monday, I called the GP doctor’s office, the practitioner insisted the symptoms couldn’t be caused by the medication, but she changed my prescription anyway. It turned out that I wasn’t experiencing a UTI but rather blood in my urine—both symptoms are known side effects of Lisinopril.

The new medication, Losartan, made matters worse. It caused my heart to race, and I couldn’t get my heart rate below 120 BPM. My blood pressure continued to rise, and each time I checked it, panic set in. I went back to the GP’s office and was now stuck with this practitioner, and told her these meds were not working and now I felt panic every time I took my BP. She insisted that my BP and heart rate would stabilize and that I needed to give it time. I was spiraling. If anyone knew me in my younger days, they would wonder what the hell was going on with my logic centers that I was allowing this less than caring, less than knowledgable, less than human, practitioner railroad me into this bullshit diagnosis!

to be continued . . .