#and then the bagging area didn’t notice my antihistamines :’) so i had to wait for the guy to fix it

[watsonundercover]

Definition of Soulmates

Summary; after having the worst day of Ambrose’ life a surprise twist walks in and catches her heart in ways she’s never expected, for Dimitri, finding the right girl has always been a challenge because he knows he’s heard her before in the back of his mind,

Author’s Note; I’ve based the character Dimitri off of Tom Holland, so I guess this is a bit of a fanfic in that sense. I love the name Ambrose but you can slip your own name and description in if you want!

 Part One

The Market I work in has to be 1500 feet at most, its small but packs a punch given we have two coolers’ for supplies a back area for prep and a small office space taking up a third of the store. The last two thirds are where customers roam amongst the veggies and a small grocery aisle that I know like the back of my hand. Daily I look over it, making sure the shelves are as full as possible since we only order when we fully run out of something.

“What do you think Ambross?” My manager asks he surveys the cereals. “Think we should go for five and take the deal they’re offering?” He constantly gets my name wrong despite me making him sound it out. I also go by Brosie to most.

“I think we could. Tomorrow the rest will come off since it’s the beginning of the week.” I say and kick a milk carton as a make shift step stool in front of some of the honeys. I pull down a box from the top of the shelf to fill up some wildflower honey.

“Good point, which flavours go fastest?” he asks. Lee has noticed that I observe everything and in my two years here figured out the patterns of sales.

“I would say that Chocolate rice stuff, the peanut butter balls and….” My head snaps around as my ears pick up a crash at the end of the aisle. A wail is then coming out a small child, Mum is picking them up and looking at Lee and I with apologetic eyes. Then I see and smell it. The little one dropped a jar of pickled beets. Leaving my honey on the step stool I go and grab a bag from the front cash to get the debris into. Lee without a word has gone to the back to get the mop.

“I’m so sorry.” Mom says as I get on my knees to get up the beats and glass.

“It’s alright.” I say with a smile. “Little ones are usually way too curious with what’s on the bottom shelves, I keep telling my boss we should have unbreakable things there.” I stand with most of the glass in the bag, Lee appears with the mop to get up the juice, making it easier for me to see the last of the broken glass. I step to the side where the Mom is. The little boy now at eye level with me. “You wanted to know what those were huh?” I ask with a lighter tone to him. He nods and curls into her. I’m guessing he’s not even three.

“Brosie there’s some glass there.” Lee says and I bend to snatch it up. “Oh shoot….”

“Ah!” I gasp and yank my hand back as a piece of glass that Lee nor I didn’t see jabs into my hand.  It’s dug in deep enough a steady flow of blood to come out.

“Back now.” Lee orders and I pass him the bag to go into the back to get a wad of paper towel to get the bleeding to stop. There my co worker and friend Ana comes in for the start of her shift. She takes in the sight of me and yanks out on of her head phones.

“You okay?” She asks.

“Cut my hand.” I say. “Broken jar. Was cleaning it but…” She cuts me off by coming and taking my hand to look over it.  She grabs another wad of paper towel to wet and dab at my hand. She then grabs the first aid kit from the end of the big back shelf.

“It’s not too deep, lets just clean it….”

“Holy shit.” I breathe and nearly yank back my hand as she presses an antiseptic cloth to it.

“Wuss.” She hisses.

“How about I pour alcohol on your paper cuts? Or lemon juice?” I bite back.  That makes her laugh. She’s also one of my few friends that I am constantly bantering with. She’s an artist like me and insists on having handmade sketchbooks where the pages aren’t even and cuts her fingers on them constantly. Right now I spy band aids on two of her fingers.

“This needs more than a band aid.” She states and grabs some butterfly strips to pull my skin together with.  I wince as Lee comes back.

“Are you okay?” He asks and put the mop to the side to come and see. “Oh shoot, does it hurt?” He sees Ana’s work before she wraps gauze around my hand as an extra precaution.

“A little.” I admit. “I have some Tylenol in my bag if it does start to hurt.”

“Alright. Um maybe take a breather, then finish what you had started in the aisle, you pulled down something I think.”

“Honey.” I say. “We’re almost out of it so I brought it down to top up the shelf.” That prompts Ana to go and drop her bag in the small back aisle next to the bathroom that also leads to the back door. Ana appears again with my water bottle to throw at me. Fumbling I manage to catch it, banging it on my cut a little I try to not flinch but I glug back about half of it to get some fluids in me after losing some blood.  I take a few deep breaths as Lee gets the mop back away in the bathroom.

I drink more water. Feeling back to normal I go back to the aisle and finish up the honey I pulled out. I then see that another brand needs to be stocked up, I go out to find the back stock under the table with apples and come back. As I slide it on I get my skinny arms back there to even everything out and pull some forward.

Crabcakes! I pull my hand out as a sharp sting shoots up my arm and tears well in my eyes. I see it shaking at a large lumps forms where a wasp has stung me.  I look at the back of the shelf and see a small nest formed by some honeycomb at the back. The little turkeys seem to have taken it hostage because of a poor packaging design.  I shake out my hand but the pain is not going away. I beeline to the back to some Tylenol. Lee sees the few tears that escape.

“Is your hand hurting?” He asks. I show off the impressive lump that is swelling fast. His eyes grow huge. “What happened?!” he jumps up and off the stool to inspect it.

“Freaking wasp.” I gasp trying to not sob. “There’s a new nest by the honeycombs.”

“Great.” Lee huffs and has me sit. “I’ll see if Ana has any antihistamines, if not I’ll go get you some.” Lee disappears around the corner to find her. Only a minute later I see her dash into the cooler them comes back out holding a bag of ice she must have taken off of some of the veggies.

“You can’t seem to win today.” She says and passes me the make shift ice pack to press onto my hand.

“Yeah not really.” I breathe and try to take a deep breath to stay calm.

“How long have you been working now” She asks.

“About two hours and a bit.” I say. Lee shows back up holding the antihistamines for me. I take one, Ana grabs my water bottle so I can get it down.

“Maybe she could have a break just to recover Lee?” Ana suggests and looks at him.

“Good idea.” He says. With that I grab my lunch bag and step out into the back porch to sit and watch the woods. I eat some yogurt and my sandwich, I sip at water and decide that it’s too chilly for it. A hot chocolate from the coffee shop would be nice. I have a half hour break so I get up retrieve my wallet then walk along the back gravel to come out at the end of this bit of the mini mall. Out on the side walk I avoid other people’s eyes so no one can tell I’ve been crying. Past the main grocery store that is our rival I continue on to the third strip of building where a coffee shop is on the end. Inside I order my hot chocolate, pay and wait over at the side.

“Ambrose?” I hear and glance around for who said it. Being at the market means a lot of people recognize me and a lot of my family is in the area too. But this voice is one I recognize but can’t place. My heart freezes when I see its source.

Ben.

A young man with enough muscle to make any girl swoon and parted brown hair. My stomach clenches as his greenish eyes meet mine.

“Medium hot chocolate to go.” The barista calls out and I grab it and move to get out.

“Brosie.” I hear Ben call as he comes after me. “Brosie come on, don’t act like this.” He grabs my wounded hand as he catches up to me and I nearly screech. I yank back and cradle it against myself and fight some tears. “If anyone really should be like this it should be me.” Ben huffs. “You are the one who broke off the friendship.” I grind my teeth and look down at my hand. Crap, he’s torn the cut open enough to bleed. He then sees the crimson on the white gauze. “Oh shit.” He breathes and tries to take it to see.

“Leave me alone Ben.” I say loud enough for heads to turn.

“You’re bleeding let me help, you know I’m training to be….”

“A paramedic, yes I know. I knew everything about you while you barely knew me Ben. Plus why do you care now? You treated me like crap the last few months of our friendship.” I bite and turn to stalk away. Within a second I’m suddenly staring at Ben’s tiny but round ass. He’s grabbed me in fireman’s hold, something he’s done before. “Let me go!” I shout and try to struggle but his arms squeeze my middle tightly to keep me in control. With the shock of him picking me up I’ve dropped my hot chocolate. “Ben come on! Let me go!”

He sets me down in the back of his truck and grabs a medical kit he always keeps on hand. I however dive to the side as he tries to grab at my hand again.

“Cut it out!” I bark and dodge to the back of the wagon.

“Ambrose I’m trying to help you.” He argues. “Something you say I never did.”

“Ben if you want to help me let me go and leave me alone.” I bite back and meet his eye for him to read words I uttered to him over six months ago, I fucking hate you, you treat me like shit. I then utter; “You’re only making a scene with me now because you want attention, you want to be the hero for my hand, you want me to dote on you for it. Guess what, that’s never going to happen again.” That makes him launch at me. My psychology evaluation of him has always been something I’ve kept to myself. Now it’s just pissed him off.

“Hey!” Someone shouts and he’s being pulled off of me. “What the hell?!” Ben is being thrown out of the back and I see two fit looking guys. One with blonde hair and blue eyes is helping me up, the other has a hood up covering his face. “You alright sweetie?” The blonde asks with an accent that is music to my ears.

“Get her out Henry.” Someone is saying as Ben stands to see two other people there, a larger young man and a beautiful girl. However I have my theories about beauty, that if you say beauty as a blanket term you get self-conscious, if you identify what kind of beauty it is, you can feel a little better. For her, with dark frizzy hair and sharp dark eyes that seem to stare into souls far too easily, it’s an exotic kind of beauty. Something you don’t see very often. The one in the hoodie is then helping me down to the blonde who’s jumped out. As his hands guide me down I feel something seize in my chest. Something that I can only call parapsychological, the sense of something only I can feel through my soul.

“Are you alright?’ The blonde is asking. “Did he touch you…?” I take off, the question prompting too many wrong things that happened during Ben and I’s friendship. I get back to work with tears burning in my eyes. I just go to the back porch to bury my face in my hands. Ana appears at my side.

“I heard someone saying they saw you and Ben arguing…” She says and wraps her arms around me tightly. The only good thing about the end of that friendship is that I found out who my real friends are. Including Ana. She gets me to sit down on the top step then holds out something that comforts us both, the salted milk chocolate bar that we sell.

“Thanks.” I whisper hoarsely and break off a chunk. I look at my fit watch to see that my break is almost up.  I let the chocolate melt on my tongue and have the flavours swirl around my mouth to savour it. Being mindful of how I’ve covered more receptors there to send the happy message of dopamine to be released in my brain. Chocolate is an easily addictive crack.  She still holds it out me. I break off another piece.

“Do you want to go home?” She asks. I feel calm again, I shake my head. If I keep my water bottle close or make a cup of tea I should be okay. “Okay, let’s get you patched up again, what happened now?” She takes my hand to see how bloody the gauze is.

“Ben being a dramatic ass.” I say. That gets her up to get the first aid kit and yes, more antiseptic to clean it up. I’d take Ana helping me out over Ben any day medical wise.

“What an ass.” She mutters redoing the gauze wrap. “Can’t even get out of his own head to notice you’re hurt.”

“Thanks Ana.” I murmur and begin plotting on making her a batch of cookies for helping. If I get a mix after work I can do it up tonight, I’d have to get some extra chocolate chips since I put the last of some in brownies the other week.

“Let’s get you back inside or Lee will have my head.” She says. I dawn my apron and carefully tie it around my waist. I take deep breaths and remind myself that if I remain calm, everything else will. What you put out has a way of coming back at you. The incident with Ben now is only a reflection of how I had to be when I told him we were no longer friends. Mean and ruthless. Unlike my normal self that usually understands everything and is kind. You had to be kind for yourself too I remind myself. Lee takes one look at me and gives me a few things to stock. I’m done in a few minutes.

“Err, do you want to do some chips?” He asks, however I see what he’s really asking if I feel okay enough to be climbing up and onto the edge of the veggie rack to get the boxes stored up there. I nod, feeling right down into my core, something that I know is strong and what I’ll use to get up there. Lee leaves it at that. First I check out what we need, we’re scarce with a bunch. I get a milk crate as my middle ground and wait patiently for people to be out of the way before climbing up.

“Careful monkey.” My co-worker World says deeply as he watches me. He’s East Indian and after a few sassy remarks from me when I finally warmed up to him, claimed I must have been a sister from another life.

“I always am.” I say and swing down gracefully with a box. World’s eyes watch my movements as I go back up for another then check out what else I need, a few more flavours then one of the another brand. I go up as world goes to refill his cart with more apples to stock, making that short aisle now clear. I glance around, no one is here, I could make a stack to make it easier. I get a box and sink down in a squat still balanced on the edge to only stretch back up and check around again. I’m startled with the appearance with the sight of the beautiful girl from the parking lot staring at me.  I try to think nothing of it and turn back to get a box and find it stuck behind a bar in the top of the rack. I know not to do this but I try it anyway, I just yank.

I yank too hard.  The sudden force sends my balance off and I scramble to grab hold of the top of the rack but I don’t act fast enough and start falling back.

“Arms!” I hear someone shout and feel my fall cut off shorter than I expected it. I’ve been caught by someone. Letting out a shaky breath I look up into auburn eyes that are wide as they stare back at me. I then recognize the hoodie he’s wearing. My arms tingle as he so easily holds me.

“Ambrose!” Ana calls as she comes over, World in tow. He takes that as a sign to get me down on my feet. He doesn’t seem to mind as I lean on his shoulder to steady myself.  Ana is then grabbing me, looking over my shaken state. “Are you okay?” As she asks it the shock hits and I find that I can’t speak.

“Let’s get you in the back.” Ana says and leads me away from him. I can’t help but glance at him, see his handsome face, sharp square jawline and those eyes that are not coming off me. Lee is all over me, trying to get me out of the haze, snapping, waving at me, and trying to get me to speak. World breaks it, get grabs his warm coffee mug and sets it in my hand. Temperature difference. An ice bucket would have worked too.

“Bross you okay?” Lee asks.

“She doesn’t need to answer.” Ana declares. “She’s had a shit day and is going home.” She grabs her car keys. She then passes me my backpack. I rub at my face, the day has been insane, and I’ve been pushing too much to get through it. For some reason the universe wants me to be down, or not here.

“I’ll go home but I can walk Ana.” I squeak. She raises an eyebrow at me.

“Not with the state you’re in, plus if Ben happens to cross your path again I don’t want him to get the better of you.” She’s being protective and kind, something Ben never was.

“Go, it shouldn’t take Ana too long right?” Lee asks.

“Ten minutes at most.” I say. With that Ana gets me up to guide me out. We pass by the group that got Ben away from me, the guy in the hoodie doesn’t take his eyes off me, the girl gives me a curious look, the other boys start nudging the hoodie. That’s when he looks away and down. Ana pulls me away and out of sight me to form one thought, somehow, magically, my soul knows his.

[fanfoolishness]

A  Human Thing (Shepard x Tali, ME3)

Tali had a lot of strengths.  Hacking, engineering, blasting things with shotguns.  She’d always been pleased with her gifts in those areas.  And more than anything, she was damn smart.

But knowing the right thing to say…

That eluded her, at times.

Haestrom.

Her mouth twisted, thinking of her aborted attempts to inform the families of their loved ones’ losses.  She had done it in the end, because it had needed doing.  She had refused to allow herself to shirk that responsibility.  But the words had been clumsy, clunky, nowhere near the elegance someone like Liara might have wielded.  

Tali sighed.  Liara still wasn’t answering her comms.  The loss of Thessia was a wound Tali wasn’t sure could ever heal.  Her stomach clenched, thinking of what had her people had nearly lost -- again -- on Rannoch.

She worried about Shepard, too.  He’d been sharp in the war room, temper flaring, hands white-knuckled on the railing.  Later, when she’d asked him to talk to Liara, he had barely managed more than a sentence or two with Tali before heading to Liara’s quarters.  He needed time, too, she guessed.  Or maybe just a friendly ear.

Curious and concerned, she pinged his location through her omni-tool.  It was a tiny program they had set up weeks ago, an easy way for them to see where the other was in case they were separated in battle.  Shepard’s location pinged back from the armory.  Perhaps he was hoping to find an edge there.

She took the elevator, rolling her neck as she waited, trying to get the cricks out.  The suit pressed upon her.  Now that she took the occasional risk of suitlessness with Shepard, she found she missed the freedom of air on her skin more and more.  Her suit chafed at the space between her neck and shoulder, her skin remembering Rannoch’s breeze, and she rubbed at it irritably.  

The amory was largely deserted when she arrived.  She glanced around, looking for the familiar shape of the little mech-dog that roamed the area, but she didn’t see it.  She strolled down by the crates stacked against the far wall, where his location had pinged, and she wondered what he was doing there.  Sometimes he used James’ little gym, but the punching bag hung across the way, perfectly still.

She peered around the corner of the large crates.  “Shepard --” she said, then faltered.

He was huddled on the floor, his back pressed against a crate, staring at the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest.  The mech-dog was curled up against him, one of his arms draped over it.

“Hey, Tali,” he said thickly, not turning to look at her.

Tali sat down beside him, disquieted.  He kept staring at the wall, barely noticing she had sat beside him.  “What are you doing here?”  She reached out, laying her hand on his knee.  Mechanically he patted her hand.

“Nothing,” he said.  

“You’re hiding,” Tali pointed out.  “With the mech-dog.”

“Did I ever tell you this thing’s name?” asked Shepard, as if he hadn’t heard her accusation.  His hand lay heavy on her own, and she squeezed his knee, encouraging him to continue.  

She realized what it was, now.  It was always this way with him.  An Everything’s fine drawn out first.  Then hemming and hawing about something unrelated.  Eventually, like infection being drained from a wound, he would out with it; whatever it was that gnawed him, whatever blackness choking him from within.  She wondered if he knew the pattern, though it didn’t matter.  If this helped him, she would be there for him.

“You gave it a name?” Tali asked, her voice soft.  She leaned against him, laying her head on his shoulder.

“There was a cartoon on Earth when I was a kid.  A dog named Astro.  She lived on a whole planet full of dogs and she was the most badass dog ever.  They traveled the galaxy and saved the day,” said Shepard, letting out a sharp laugh.

“Dogs?  Traveling through space?” asked Tali.  “That’s ridiculous.”  She stifled a snort.

“It was a cartoon!” said Shepard defensively.  He finally stopped looking at the wall and gazed at her instead.  His eyes looked red.  Still, though, he wore a faint smile.  “I always wanted a dog.  There were a lot of strays around, but… I was kind of a stray, too.  I never did have one.”

“So you named the mech Astro.”

He shrugged.  “You call your drone Chatika.  Is it really any different?”

“All right, fair enough.  It’s just a little fun to give it a name.”

“Right.”  He jerked a thumb at the mech, which propped itself up on its front legs and seemed to look at them.  “Astro.”  It flashed a small bright light from its eyes twice in response, then curled back up at his feet.

“Shepard,” Tali said.

He wiped at his face with his hands, shaking his head.  “I know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”  She squeezed his knee again.

“No.”  Then, abashed, “Yes.”  Shepard let out a long breath, exhaling through his mouth.  “I yelled at Joker.”

Tali was taken aback.  “Joker?  But you always get along so well.  He’s one of your closest friends.”

“I know.”  His cheeks looked gray, drained of color.  He absently lowered his hand, petting Astro’s rounded head, his fingers running over the smooth surface.  “He was trying to joke about Thessia.  Trying to do it for me, actually, since I guess it’s that obvious I’m...  not myself.  I called him out on cracking a joke and I --”  His hand on the mech-dog’s head went still.  “His family’s missing, Tali, and I didn’t even know about it.  I never asked.  Everything Joker’s done for this ship, for me, and I didn’t even ask.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to talk about it,” Tali said cautiously.  She nudged him with her shoulder.  “You don’t always want to talk about things, either.  Maybe it is a human thing.”

“I still could’ve asked.  Hell, I could’ve just looked at his file.  Even if he wasn’t my friend, it’d be important to know.”

“You’re fighting the Reapers, Shepard.  No one else could have gotten us this far.  You must remember it’s not possible for you to be there for everyone all the time,” said Tali sadly.  “I wish it was, but it’s not.”  She swallowed.  “It’s something I’m learning every day as an admiral.  Admiral Koris and I couldn’t save everyone in the Civilian Fleet.  We couldn’t keep Legion intact.  And I’m not there on Rannoch now to help my people resettle.  But I’m doing the right thing, Shepard.  So are you.”  She put a little steel into her words.  Sometimes, she knew, he needed it.

“Am I?”  He leaned his head back against the crate, closing his eyes, his mouth tight.  “I fucked up back there.  Cerberus beat us.  And Thessia’s paying the price.”

“So is Palaven,” said Tali.  “So is Earth.  That’s why we’re fighting.”  She turned, facing him, and cupped his cheeks in her hands.  She gently stroked his skin with her thumbs, wishing that there were no gloves between them.  Shepard opened his eyes, gazing steadily at her.  Keelah, but he looked tired.

“You’re Commander Xia Shepard,” she said.  “And you and I are going to finish this damn war.”

A slow, crooked smile.  “There’s my girl,” he breathed.  He suddenly pulled her to him, his arms firm and warm as they enveloped her, and she sank into his embrace.   

“Don’t you forget it, Shepard,” she chastised.  “Now.  Talk with Joker tomorrow.  He’ll understand.” “I know.  You’re right.  As usual, Admiral Zorah.”  He pressed a kiss against the side of her neck where her suit and hood were thinnest, where she could feel the gentle pressure of his mouth against her skin.  

“Oh, to hell with it,” she said.  She reached up within his embrace and before he could say anything, removed her faceplate.  

“Are you sure --” he started, but he was cut short by her mouth on his, a hard kiss slanting over his lips.  She let herself linger for a beat -- for one, two, three -- his mouth opening, his tongue slick between her parted lips -- and then reluctantly pulled away, smiling at him.

“I haven’t taken any antihistamines or antibiotics today,” she admitted.

“Tali!” he gasped.  “You shouldn’t take the risk --”

“But I did,” she giggled, and carefully replaced her faceplate, making sure the seals were secure.  “I’ll take a loading dose right now.  You just looked like you needed a good kiss.”

“You are so bad,” Shepard laughed, nuzzling her cheek, kissing the side of her neck once more.  “And so damn beautiful.”

She relaxed against him, then reached out a hand to pat the little mech-dog on its head.  It appeared to be sleeping, content to dream the night away, if its extremely limited VI could be said to dream.  It was a simple life; no fears, no regrets, no demons.  But it was a hollow one, as well.  She scratched the mech between where its ears might be, if it had them.

“So I don’t need to be jealous of Astro here?”

“Oh, no,” said Shepard casually.  “She’s a terrible kisser.”

“Shepard!  You are the worst.”

He just chuckled, and she shook her head, trying not to laugh herself.

[bgreenaker12]

It’s been my experience that people tend to fall into one of two categories when it comes to health, the first are those who are extremely vigilant about their health, they schedule regular Dr visits, even when nothing is wrong with them, they take the medications they are supposed to, they follow all their Physician’s instructions to the letter, and they go to the doctor’s office when something seems to be amiss. They are basically what could be called, a “good” patient.

Then there is the second category.

The one I was in.

This second category is filled with people like me who tend to be too busy, too stubborn, think that whatever is ailing them will “just go away”, don’t have health insurance, or they self diagnose from friends or the internet.

Yup, that was me.

A few years ago, near Thanksgiving, I almost died.

Not as a result of an accident, but because of my own inherent stubbornness and stupidity. My downward slide was so gradual that I never really recognized there was something truly wrong until it was almost too late. I had always been boringly healthy most of my life, except for a “funky form of Arthritis” as a Rheumatologist back in the early 90’s called whatever I had. Lab tests couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong with me then. Over the years, I gave up trying to figure out what my “malady” was and thought this was my lot in life, and moved on.

Fast forward a couple of decades to what would be the culmination of what happens when you ignore your health for way too long.

The first time I noticed anything was wrong, was a few years ago when I had been running a group home for brain injured adults. It was a rewarding, albeit at times, very stressful, frustrating and low paying, but an overall very satisfying job. Part of the job was going grocery shopping with the residents to teach life and financial skills. When we would arrive back to the residence from the supermarket, we’d bring the shopping bags into the house. No matter which way we entered the house we had to climb a flight of stairs to reach the kitchen. As I usually did when I went to the grocery store, I felt less trips back and forth from the car, would be more efficient. So when I carried two or three bags in each hand up the stairs, I noticed that my legs felt tired, really tired. Like I was walking in a deep pool with weights around my ankles. It was a huge struggle to accomplish this task, but me being me, I would soldier on. Besides, I just chalked it up to getting older, I was in my early fifties, and didn’t give it much more thought.

When I started having mood swings, I attributed them to Menopause. After all, I was the right age and hadn’t had a period in quite some time. My poor husband had to put up with me being such a bitch! I couldn’t help myself, I at times felt out of control and that really isn’t me at all, I’m usually pretty laid back. So in my mind, it had to be “the change of life” right? That line of thinking played heavily into what would happen during the next several months.

So, on I went, going about my business and coping with the “must be getting older” mentality. When my husband and I decided to move back to NY state from NH, to live and take care of with my elderly mother, it was very difficult for me to focus. My brain seemed so hazy sometimes that simple tasks like going to the store, or driving, were tiresome and difficult. Packing our things to move was exhausting. This wasn’t an everyday occurrence, just a feeling that would come and go. Quite frankly at that time, I was too busy to really pay attention and give credence to how I really felt. Driving in the moving caravan was taxing, I was on major interstates with confusing signage and during rush hour to boot. We eventually made it to our destination safely after ten hours of driving. As exhausting as the trip was, having to unload all of our belongings was more so, but I still managed.

Since I didn’t have a job, the next few months I would be my husband’s helper with his painting/handyman business although I would tire easily and need frequent breaks.

I would get intense hot flashes that would take quite a bit of time to cool down and I had a craving for almost frozen water. I noticed that I was losing weight. All my adult life I usually didn’t have any problem gaining weight, so losing wasn’t viewed by me as a bad thing. Besides, I had done an online search of Menopause symptoms and learned that some women actually lost weight instead of gaining, for once I thought the stars had aligned in my favor. It didn’t matter what I ate or how much, I was losing weight and loving it and I took full advantage of eating with gusto!

But soon there were other things, I was starting to lose more hair than usual and a couple of my toenails and fingernails were starting starting to look a little strange, the white part at the end of my nail was more pronounced, even though the nail itself was still fairly short, I was also getting short of breath going up a flight of stairs. Of course I rationalized those symptoms and did nothing.

At night I would take a slew of herbal medicines, antihistamines and a lot of Ibuprofen to go to sleep at night. Again, the internet searches I was doing, indicated that difficulty sleeping is perfectly normal for Menopause, so I ignored yet another big red flag.

Towards the Fall of that year I noticed that when I slept I would frequently wake up in the night, which wasn’t unusual, but I found myself mouth breathing during the night. I’ve never been a mouth breather except during the occasional Common Cold, so for the first time I was waking up to the reality that all was not right in my world.

I also noticed when I got hungry and waited too long to eat, I frequently would get nauseous and on many occasions, vomit. Which on an empty stomach, is no small feat! That was the case when we went to a mall, stayed too long and I ended up in the parking lot sitting in our car using an empty shopping bag to throw up in.

Charming.

My husband would nag and say, there was something wrong and I should see a doctor. He would tell me when I was having a hot flash that I looked like a red, melting candle. I always had an excuse as to why I didn’t call anyone, no primary doctor, not enough money and truth be told a good dose of fear, though I wouldn’t admit to that to him at the time.

To be honest also I was such a rotten bitch and would shut him out if he bugged me too much about my health. Since our recent move, I hadn’t yet found a job, so I had no health insurance and I was way too proud to sit in some welfare office and beg for Medicaid.

The hot flashes were becoming much more intense and my husband noted that if he was within six feet of me, he could feel the heat coming from me and see the pulse banging away in my neck. I was slowly coming around to the fact that all was not well, but I wasn’t quite there yet, despite the fact that it would be 25–30 degrees outside and I wouldn’t wear anything more than a tee shirt and would drive with the windows down because I was so hot. My husband absolutely refused to drive me with the windows down, so I would open the air vent on the passenger side to keep me cool whenever we went anywhere together.

I continued to lose weight and now my hands would shake like a detoxing alcoholic.

Around Thanksgiving, I had an opportunity to finally be employed so I applied for a job

helping the elderly by doing basic errands, cleaning their homes and providing companionship to them. After I applied with the agency, I was accepted on the condition that I have a pre-employment physical. By this time quite frankly I was glad for the upcoming appointment, partially because I might get some answers about what was going on with me and also, it wouldn’t cost me a dime.

By now my heart rate was quite rapid all the time, even when I was sitting still and at times I was having palpitations, that was very scary for me although I would push those fears down, no sense in borrowing trouble I thought, there might be a simple answer to how I feeling, I rationalized.

It’s very interesting how when you’re sick, you will do anything to deny there is a problem.

I could no longer sleep on my stomach anymore, because I could feel my pulse pounding in my neck and I felt like I was choking.

Wonderful.

The day of my physical finally arrived and I drove myself to the medical complex which was about seven miles from home. I checked in with the receptionist and sat in a full reception area waiting for my name to be called. Finally it was my turn and I walked back to the exam room with the nurse and we stopped in the hallway so I could get weighed, I was pleased to see I was still losing weight despite all the food I had been eating lately. Next we sat down in an exam room and she took my blood pressure. As I watched her pump up the cuff, I was keenly aware of just how tight it was getting and how high up the needle was going. As she released the pressure and listened to my arm under the cuff, she frowned and sort of shook her head and repeated the whole process again and again. When she finished the third time she raised her eyebrows and for the first time, really looked at me. “How do you feel?” she asked me.

“Fine, the same way I always do.” I said

“Your blood pressure is 220 over 132” she said.

“Oh” I replied.

I was unable to comprehend what she was telling me, but I was starting to feel the panic rising in my chest. The nurse then got up and made a call.

After that a Doctor came into the room and took my pressure again. Then again. She looked at me and asked a few questions. She asked the nurse some questions, then she made a phone call and another Doctor, her boss came into the exam room. He repeated the same steps as the previous Doctor with the same results, blood pressure that was way too high, and my resting heart rate was a sustained 146 beats per minute. I was near tears as I realized that this was quite serious as the medical team huddled in a group to to decide what to do next.

Apparently someone called an ambulance to take me to the hospital. I refused, saying that I was fine to drive myself, that the hospital was literally half a mile up the street from my house. What I was too embarrassed to say to them was I was driving our only car and all I could think of was how was my husband going to retrieve our vehicle from 7 miles away? Also, I just couldn’t imagine myself riding in an ambulance, that was for really sick people and besides, how much would that cost me? The stupid things you think of in moments of panic. I was thinking as I was driving home that maybe I should have taken the ambulance, what if something happens? But I drove on and went home. Once there I informed my husband what had been said at my physical and then burst into tears. I’m not usually a crier in front of anyone, even my husband. I acknowledged for the first time that there was truly something wrong and now I was forced to confront my lax attitude towards my health.

We drove the 3 blocks to the hospital’s ER and once there, a nurse greeted me by name at the door, escorted me to a room in the back somewhere and took my blood pressure, this time it was 225/140. She then escorted to my own room further down the hall. I found out later that the “team” already had a heads up that I was on my way there and had a room in the back waiting for my arrival. I guess when your b/p was as high as mine was, you get to skip the line and the waiting room chairs. A saving grace from listening to wailing babies and watching bad tv with the volume on mute.

Once in the ER room, I was greeted by a few doctors and nurses who had many questions for me then in quick efficiency drew blood, started an IV and ordered quite a few tests including a chest x-ray, and EKG, and lab tests. After six hours of poking and prodding, my “team” finally had an answer for me. I was having a Thyroid Storm, which is a life threatening condition related to untreated Hyperthyroidism. I was told by one of the ER Doctors that he was very glad I came in when I did, otherwise I could have died before Thanksgiving and that would have been a bummer of a holiday.

It’s a very strange feeling when you’ve considered yourself to be boringly healthy, except for those pesky Arthritic symptoms, most of your life to find out you were off base.

Way off.

I had been ill for years and figured that my symptoms were minor things until they became more severe. Then, after consulting with Dr. Google, I attributed my condition to Menopause.

Now, let me be clear, I was also suffering from Menopause, but with all the other symptoms I was having, I should have taken my butt to a doctor long before I was finally forced to. It’s been 5 years and I still struggle with keeping my Thyroid under control, my weight has yo-yoed up and down quite dramatically so I have clothes that reflect that reality crammed into my dresser and closet. It took many, many months, to get my Thyroid under control and all these years later, I’m still having my medicine adjusted to bring me to within normal limits.

One benefit of all these trips to see the doctor have produced an answer to my other condition that had been plaguing me for over 25 years with no answer, I also have Systemic Lupus. With that new diagnosis, I have good days and bad ones, just like I always have, only now I know what to call my “malady.” I also have found out that of people who have Systemic Lupus, 10% will develop Hypothyroidism which is a too low functioning Thyroid, while 1% will develop the way too fast Hyperthyroidism.

So I guess I’m a 1 percenter in something!

My Thyroid medication often causes my Lupus symptoms to flare up so it’s a tricky balancing act. Because of my regular visits to the Endocrinologist, I have discovered I have have three nodules on my Thyroid, two between my Thyroid and my vocal cords, the other sitting very closely to my Carotid Artery. So far, so good on them, but at some point because of their locations and that fact that they are slowly growing, I will probably have to have my Thyroid removed surgically in the future.

I’m not looking forward to that, but I will be an obedient, “good” patient.

Overall, I feel better than I have in years by managing my health. My advice to women everywhere is this, please don’t assume, rely on the internet or friends when it comes to your health and well being. Go to a medical professional and consult with them. You also don’t have to be middle age to have this condition, if you feel like something could be wrong, seek professional help, it could save your life!