We did not have to figure that one out, thankfully, but the topic was pertinent.
The morning we left East Lansing, we stopped to get the updated Covid vaccine, hopefully in time for the crowded Airstream rally in October. Now, Tracy sometimes gets like a vaccine hangover, and I always get downright sick, so we planned a quiet weekend in a state park campground in Illinois, off the Kankakee River. Just one full day, no dealing with the tent, no appointments. Lots of snacks and two final episodes of Bodies to watch. Easy peasy.
I really got knocked for a loop, though. I’ve been having erratic heart rhythms anyway, and that’s why I saw a cardiologist in Houston. But the night after the vaccine, Wowsers. My heart rate on my watch had been rising all day, and I woke up after midnight with it pounding, and the meter looked like I was trying to do a triathlon.
My breathing seemed normal though (other than a creeping panic), and no chest pain, so I just watched it. I know from sad experience that if you call the health-insurance on-call nurse, she’s gonna tell you to go the ER, and they’ll make sure you’re not having a life-threatening episode and then send you home with a big bill. I knew I was not having a heart attack.
But, man my heart felt like a big old tennis shoe in a dryer, banging around, on high speed. So I texted my friend Jacqui in New Zealand because she’s a saint when it comes to talking me through middle-of-the-night anxiety. Plus, you know, she’s awake.
She strongly suggested I wake up Tracy, which is the kind of common sense I rely on from her. He pointed out that even if we did decide to go to the ER, the freaking gate across the entrance to the RV park is locked, not with a coded lock but with a chain and padlock. Who does that? And if we were to knock on the camphosts’ RV door at 3 am, it’s more likely we’d be met with a pistol in the face than a concerned host. It’s absurd how many people have guns in their trailers.
We didn’t decide to go to the ER, and my heart rate evened out by the afternoon, and last night my resting heart rate was back to its normally low, almost-dead self. I did call the cardiologist’s’ nurse, who added my story to my file and said the doctor would look at it when my other data comes in; the company processing the info from that heart monitor I wore had a system change and is two weeks backlogged in transmitting the data to my cardiologist. That’s par for the blackhole of bad luck that is my medical world these days.
I’m hoping that blackhole will collapse in on itself this upcoming week, as I see a new person for my knee and a new person for my person, both recommended by friends.
Rack up padlocked gates in the column of reasons I hate campgrounds. Appointments are worth campgrounds, though, as are friends whom we’ll see at the next spot!
You managed that really well. I tend to get panic attacks when I feel trapped, whether it’s in real situations or just perceived ones. The whole gun and padlock scenario would have made me uneasy as well.
And OF COURSE it’s in friggin’ Illinois. 🤣
Oh oh, what thing about Illinois am I missing here? I never felt trapped really, but afterwards I did wonder what I would have done, for sure!
I was just kidding. I live in Illinois, and we like to poke fun at ourselves.
Although those downstaters…I KID. (Kind of)
The vibe of which Midwestern state people make fun of which other Midwestern state people totally escapes me, but this adds to my knowledge. 😀 Thanks!
I know! I don’t know why we do it. 🤣
Damn, that must have been frightening. Glad your poor heart settled back down to near dead. I get sicker than a dog with the vaccines too. In bed for 2 days, swollen painful lymph nodes for two weeks… which is why I’m seriously considering skipping the next one.
How the hell does that campground get away with padlocking you in? That doesn’t even sound legal.
It doesn’t sound legal! I imagine some campers are more worried about who might get in late at night than who might be get out. You do sound like you have a robust reaction, as a friend of mine calls it. Sounds miserable!
Sometimes the terrible time differences work out well don’t they? I’m so glad all is back to normal now because the padlock and gun scenario is well outside my advice wheelhouse!
I do not wish midnight emergencies on you, but if you ever do have them, you know who to call!
Yet another thing I never considered when romanticizing the lifestyle. I’m glad your heart rate is back to normal; I’m sure that was frightening at the time!
I did not ever feel like I was having a heart attack, so I was more worried, like: what else the hell could be happening here?!? I’m glad it’s over, too.
We have seen campgrounds where the gate locks behind and you can’t get back in until the morning but a pad lock? Yikes! I hope you feel better today.
I do feel all the way better, thanks!!