Well, FDR, I’ve Got a Lot of Fear to Fear….

They put me on anxiety drugs yesterday. The logic is simple. I am completely recovered physically from the pacemaker replacement. The programming changes made two weeks ago should have corrected the sudden rise in blood pressure. The short of breath, weakness I feel now is probably due to anxiety. Not my fault, the docs say: the fact that in the last two months my case has been analyzed as often as the Cardinals bullpen would be a huge contributor to an incremental rise in my stress levels. They laugh when I suggest counseling

“What are they going to say? You’ve been under a lot of stress. We know that.”.

“Take deep breaths and this pill twice a day, and let’s hope it works.”

So, do I.

Though I have been assured by almost every doc, that this is not a sign of sudden heart weakness, and major surgery will not be required. The idea is stuck on the back wall of my brain. Oozing down towards the skull leaving doubt, worry and fret.

Doctors smile and explain with the last round of changes, I should never feel lightheaded or passing out again. All the time the world begins to spin as I concentrate on it not spinning.

“I’m alright. It’s only anxiety.” I whisper to myself repeatedly. My parents are either deaf or ignore it, because the people in the store heard it.

It may be anxiety. But the feeling of tightness of chest, short of breath and general crap is awful. It may all be in the head, but I can’t get away from it.

Yes, I do have a lot easier than the men and women in Iraq, those in poverty, those in prison. They have a difficulty that can kill and destroy them. It can trap and convince them there is no way out.

But let me tell you: fear is scaring the crap out of me.