The Irrationality of Panic

All my adult life, I've had a panic or anxiety disorder--one of those conditions that's hidden so you look perfectly normal  and many people think, "Just get over it." I don't have many panic attacks any more and when I do, they're minimal. But today I had a doozy. I suppose there's a lot going on in my life to make me build anxiety--my oldest son in the hospital, my youngest son in China, my youngest daughter heading for Mexico tomorrow. But I think the real cause was my ophthalmology appointment.
Don't get me wrong. The doctor, an old friend, is as kind as can be, but there's something about eye exams that really bothers me. Maybe it's the feeling if I can't read every line that I'm a kid failing a test in school. Maybe it's those old glass prisms they used to use to look into your eye. Maybe it's the dilation, but honest, I'd rather go to the dentist and the gynecologist in the same morning.
Today's appointment was generally a breeze, and I got a sort of clean bill of health--my eyes are holding steady, with one slight development that isn't a problem and may never be. I could stand a new sunglass prescription but I don't really need it. Pleasant people, less than two hours--as I say, a breeze.
So why did I lose my ability to walk on the way back to my car? I had parked at head-in parking at the far end of the building--easier for me than walking across from the far side of the empty parking lot. But when I left I started down the sidewalk and could barely walk, even though I had a cane. I held on the bushes, and when there were none, I stepped into the garden bed to hold on to the wall, my heart pounding and my breath growing short. By the time I was past the point of no return I was cursing myself for not just asking someone to walk me out, and I truly didn't know how I would make it around the corner to my car. Anyone watching must have...well, I don't know what they would have thought.
God looks after those who can't help themselves. A tech came along asking, "Can I help you?" Well, of course I said yes, and once I took her arm, I was fine or almost so. She didn't believe it. "Is someone waiting for you?" I said no, my car was around the corner. She looked really dubious about letting me drive. When we got there, she said, "There's a step down." "Yes, ma'am, I can do it."
"Are you sure you're okay? There's a trash bin back there." I assured her I would not hit the trash bin. Her next question almost sent me into gales of hysterical laughter: "Do you know how to get back to the freeway?" The freeway was the last place I wanted to go--I don't drive on them. I assured her I wanted to go the other way, and I'm pretty sure she watched me drive away. In retrospect I can laugh at it, but at the time there was nothing funny about it, and that lady, bless her, was a guardian angel.
The rest of the day? I walked around just fine, thank you--took garbage carts to the street, crossed the street to get Jacob, went to dinner with Jacob. It was like this morning never happened, but I know it did.
Someday I'm going to write an article or something on panic disorder because so few people understand it or even believe it exists. I know better, and I know the percentage of people who suffer from one form or another is high. Most just don't talk about it.

Memoir class

My memoir class met tonight for the first meeting of the spring session. We had four returning members and four new ones, a most interesting mix. Each returnee introduced herself and told a bit about why she keeps coming back, what she's learned, how she's been encouraged by the group. Some of the things surprised me, in a good way, and it was rewarding to hear that they feel they've grown and become more comfortable with their writing. One member writes so well there's no critiquing her except to say what we like about it. Tonight she had us in hysterics with a tale about a newlywed housewife and her mundane existence--must win three hands of solitaire before she begins housecleaning, etc. Two others said that through the class they can see a pattern to their writing now, the outline of the project--both are writing for their families and not publication, but the fourth returnee is writing for publication now and has placed a short story. The new members talked about their insecurity about writing, and I remembered that most of the  class began that way and now they're happy to dispense advice and encouragement to others. What a great experience this has been. I'm enjoying it a lot.
Today started out damp and dreary but by the time I emerged from the eye doctor's office, eyes fully dilated, it was bright and sunny. Instead of going to the retirees luncheon, I opted to close my dilated eyes for a long nap! I have had it with doctor appointments--an echocardiogram Monday, skin tumor removal Wednesday, eye doctor today. Each appoointment turned out fine, but it's a wearing way to spend the week. Tomorrow I have to get up really early to take a friend for a colonoscopy,but that's a different thing. I'll treat it like a vacation and read a lot.
Sunny afternoon lightens anyone's disposition. Jacob and I "made up"--he showered me with love, and I gave him the option of doing homework here or at home. He chose home because I'm "sometimes so bossy about it." I think we're still figuring this thing out, but we will. This afternoon he had sparkling cider and declared we were having a party. I sked if he wanted to go into the office and watch TV there and he said no, he wanted to stay at the table and talk. So we talked. Such fun.
Life is good. May it be so for all of you.

End of the holiday

I spent Christmas Day with my family--eight adults and seven grandchildren. Last night I spent New Year's dinner with my Fort Worth family: Jordan, Christian and Jacob. Sue, who calls me her Fort Worth mom, came by for appetizers and a glass of wine. When Jay and Susan, my neighbors, arrived, they brought wine stoppers--the kind I had asked Jordan to look for. When I said that, Jay said, "We're better kids than she is!" And it dawned on me that this was my Fort Worth family--missing Elizabeth and Weldon, but I'm sure they'll be here soon. We had hoppin john that had quite a kick to it--and I didn't add the jalapeno or the bell pepper. Must have been the Cajun seasoning. The Burtons left soon after dinner, but Jay and Susan lingered, playing with Sophie. We agreed she's a great dog--or will be when she's eighteen months. Today, Susan brought a new Kobo brush over and showed me how to use it--Sophie looked lovely, but was soon rolling in the leaves again. Tonight I looked out and she was lying in the yard like a limp rag doll. I called and she didn't move. So, in stocking feet, I rushed out, got almost to her, and she jumped up and began to run like the Energizer Bunny.
The new year is off to a good start. When I retired I thought I would get to write all day every day, but I soon found life gets in the way. This week, it's a haircut, two lunch dates, a date with a dog trainer, and an eye doctor appt. that I dread--I always feel like I'm failing a test when I can't read some lines on the screen. But today was the gift of an extra holiday. My calendar was absolutely empty, and Jacob did not have school--in fact, he's with his folks, and I haven't even heard from them all day. So I did spend much of the day at my computer and got lots done. Almost through formatting the second Kelly O'Connell novel. But I also had a lovely, lazy nap and did my yoga, took Christmas off the dining table, and mopped the kitchen floor. Now I'm back at my desk.
Tomorrow, the world begins again after a lovely holiday. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I"ll be on the porch at 7:55 to hug Jacob and out the driveway at 8:30.