Originally Posted by
thenewguy 
I'm coming up on 3 months sober, and I'm afraid to go to the doctor. And I think I need to go.
I'm about 99 percent certain I have some kidney stones from chronic dehydration from drinking. Usually, they didn't bother me too much, or in the past, I would simply drink myself silly to numb or mask their symptoms. But the past week, in early recovery, the symptoms have been bothering me again.
My last medical intervention was last May, when I showed up at the ER for a badly clogged ear from some earwax. I was actively drinking then, and for some reason my brain and body went ballistic from anxiety when I was administered vital signs tests in the triage chair. BP skyrocketed, and my pulse shot up to 160. The triage nurse flipped out and ordered an EKG, which was clear. Needless to say, her reaction to my sudden panic attack only shot my anxiety up even further. They put me in a dark room, and gave me some Ativan, and everything went back down. They cleaned out my ears, the ER doc told me to follow up with a GP within 7 days, and I was on my way.
Except that I didn’t follow up. I was so haunted by the incident that I suffered the worst anxiety of my life, missing a full week of work and not sleeping the entire time (I very rarely missed work when drinking). And for weeks afterward, I had nightmares and insomnia after the experience. I was a wreck.
This was my ‘warning shot’ to quit drinking, and I stayed sober for 4 months, assuring myself that I needed the summer to de-stress before going back to follow up with a GP. Except that when summer ended, and I figured I was healthy enough to go back to the old routine, and I missed my happy-hour buddies, so away I went on my usual 12-pack, Friday-night binge. Yes, I know….typical Alkie mindset.
Another withdrawals-related incident last March, after a Friday binge, finally drilled into my head that enough was enough, and I was done for good. And I mean that.
But now I’m back to square one, at almost the exact same time last year. Nagging health problems that should be attended to. And a primal, uncontrollable fear of dealing with doctors, nurses, tests, etc. PAWS, along with some unwise caffeine consumption in early recovery, has got its claws into me deep. And I am deathly afraid of even making an appointment, afraid I’ll have the same panic attacks and anxiety.
I guess the toughest part is that I have no support, and I mean ZERO. I have few family left, and the ones that are around are retirement-age and dealing with their own stuff. I don’t have a single friend, either.
Fear aside, my mind is so foggy and addled that I can’t even make basic decisions about which doctor or clinic to call, and how to fit in appointments to my schedule.
I didn’t mean to write War and Peace here, and I don’t expect many to read this. I just need to get this off of my chest. I can just see myself white-knuckling through another summer.
I’m stuck….and I’m screwed