Posted on March 21, 2005 in Medications
This is what I felt: the bones in my hands turned to quartz crystals sandpapering my skin from the inside. I flushed red, especially in the hands. My heart beat a tattoo that echoed in my neck, ears, and wrists. I felt feverish, but my wife said that I was cold to the touch. Water in glasses that I clutched tossed visibly. When I tried to read cards or books, I had to lay them down so that the printing wouldn’t blur from the motion of my hands.
My doctor had upped my dose of Cardizem (Diltiazem) from 240 mg to 360 mg. When I received the new supply of meds on Saturday, I assumed that they were 120 mg as the last batch had been. A glass of water sloshed three of the monster white and green pills down my gullet. I took them again on Sunday. And I felt the side-effects that I described in the first paragraph.
An increase of 120 mg had created quite a reaction, I thought. Perhaps this would pass. I missed the last medication I’d been on for high blood pressure — atenolol. The smallest dose had brought me into a management range with no side effects except the bronchitis which afflicted me for several weeks at the beginning of this year.
This morning, as I braced myself for yet another day of inner biochemical sandblasting, I glanced at one of the tablets. The white letters 360mg appeared over the green half of the capsule. This explained things. I took only the one capsule and went back for a long nap — 5 hours. There was no evil or sluggardness in this: I needed to be resting after the trial of my weekend.
Gratitude is due my eyes, my strong heart, and that small center of sanity which forgives me my errors.