Day 154: Why I Don't Go Out Much Anymore

Today, my worst nightmare happened; I collapsed in public.

After finishing my sauna, I decided to cool off in the pool. Nothing strenuous: a few stretches, moving my arms, scissor kicking a bit.  From a distance, I watched the old women do their noodle float exercises in the Senior class.

"Wanna join us?" the leader yelled, pointing the whole group in my direction.
"No thanks." I said.
"C'mon," she joked, waving her yellow, styrofoam strip.  "I'll even get you a noodle."
"Not today," I replied, turning my back to the audience.

For the next few minutes, I did my own thing; a series of turns, kicks, and arm movements. The water felt unusually soothing; with gratitude I moved through it --back and forth -- enjoy the resistance it provided my body. 

Feeling like I had enough strength, I used the ledge versus the ladder to exit.  The first couple of steps?  Completely uneventful.  The third step?  Debilitating pain in my left knee that sent me spiraling downward.

Luckily, a white, plastic chair broke my fall; just before hitting the pavement. Unluckily, my locker/clothes/keys were still 20 feet away. Not to mention the car.  That would be a whole other adventure.

So, there I am, glued to this chair -- now desperate to get home, leg unable to support me, surveying the options.

Option 1 -- Interrupt the class of 20 aerobic seniors dancing to Hey Mambo Italiano
Option 2 -- Yell to the Lifeguard on the other side of the pool for help
Option 3 -- Crawl
Option 4 -- Get up and try to make it myself

After sitting a minute, I select option 4. If I can just get to the door (seven feet away), I know I can probably use the wall for support and hopefully make it from there.  Wincing, I put weight on my inflamed leg.  Again, my knee buckles...feeling more like it's broken than functioning.

Desperate, I hop on one foot towards the locker room. Inside, I work to steady myself...one hand on the wall, one hand on the rail, lifting one leg, sliding the other.  After moving about 12 inches, crying the whole time, a horrified stranger stops on her way to the sauna.

"Oh my God.  Are you OK??!?" she panics...pulling me off the wall.
"N-n-n..No," I start bawling.
"WHAT happened???  Did you fall?" she asks, draping my arm over her shoulder. 
"N-n-no . I am s-s-sick," I stammer.
"Someone...Get help.  Call 9-1-1," she yells through the locker room.
"N-n-no. I'm o-o-ok," I manage to get out.  "I just n-n-need to get h-h-home."

Suddenly, I am surrounded by swarms of people: the cleaning lady, the lady who rescued me, the receptionist, the dietitian on staff, a couple of Y members.  One holds me up. Another slides on my pants.  Another pulls my grey fitted tank top over my head.

"Is there someone we can call?" one asks.
"Are you sure she doesn't need an ambulance?" another whispers like I'm not even there.
"I h-h-have l-l-chronic illness," I cry.  "It af-f-fects my joints.  This h-h-happens.  I just need to g-g-go home."
"Can you drive?" another asks.
"Y-y-yes."

Camille --a registered nurse-- followed by an entourage, carries/supports/guides me through the crowded gym.
Bystanders stare. People whisper. I hop, limp, and cry.

"How long have you been sick?" she asks.
"8 9 months." I answer.
"Do you know what you have?" she asks.
"They think it's L-l-lyme Disease." I stammer.
"They can treat for that," she says..."You can take things."
"I know," I cry.  "I am."

The pain was awful, but not nearly as bad as the total feeling of helplessness.

Altered Today:  Dignity, medication, appointment with a Neurologist and Cardiologist, first cane.

Comments

[Bambi L Albert]

I didn't like that first cane either, but it sure beats screaming, "I've fallen and I can't get up"

[KTag]

Yea...definitely not fun, but it sure beats the alternative. Trying to explain to people WHAT was happening was the worst part. Makes me want to wear a sign or something.

[Sue from bc]

Amazing what we persevere through when others would collapse and cry out for help. We the long sick struggle to make it to the car, the couch or bed. Home is safe, we must get there no matter what. Rubber legs, screaming joints, it does not matter, we have to do what we have to do and that is it.

Only another Lymie could relate I suspect.

[Pam]

Aw girl...I'm so sorry that happened :(

I know it must've been awful and scary, but when I read your title, I was thinking you passed out. Scared me to death!

[KTag]

Yea...Pam. It could have totally been worse. Passing out or seizing on that concrete would be a very bad idea. Makes me wonder how people with Epilepsy handle it or other conditions that produce random debilitating symptoms handle it.

For 9 months, I've had virtually no leg pain at all (at least not the joint kind). For the last three days, my legs have been failing me and just getting worse.

To be clear, my biggest fear isn't falling down in public. It's not being able to take care of myself and I am slowly starting to see that happen.

Sue's right...it is amazing. Amazingly sad, scary, and unbelievable. Love you guys. Thanks for reading.

[Lorelie]

Just reading this, I started to cry. Sorry this happened to you. Thinking of you lots.

[Kathryn]

:( As bad as it is to flop to the ground with witnesses (and you know me, I'm perfectly capable of landing flat on my face without much reason- and I do it fairly often as you well know), I'm glad there were people around to help you, even if they fluttered and talked around you.

love you kiddo!

[Diane]

I remember when this first started happening to me. The first few times is the worst. I'm sorry you had to go through it. One time my knees gave out in a clothing section of a store and down I went, between the racks. No one could see me until a lady stepped on my hand and I shrieked. I think she was more scared than I was!

I'm glad it wasn't a seizure. I have seizures from the Lyme and they have happened in public a few times. luckily, I have had a family member there to deal with people for me.