Turns out it was just a panic attack. Like, outta nowhere. I don't get it. Why would I have my worst panic attack ever one week AFTER I start taking anti-anxiety medicine? Why would it come to me in my sleep? I don't remember feeling especially panicky or anything so I dunno what the fuck was up, but either way, I guess I'm glad I'm not dead and my dad gets to save those rants for another day.
Also, the doctor told me I was "very dehydrated." What in the fuck?? I feel like all I do all day is drink water and drink water and then drink more water. They gave me an IV which took FOUR attempts from two different nurses to get the dang needle in the right place. That one bitch was just not good at it. She kept saying "it's RIGHT THERE, I can SEE it!" then still not getting it. And she was leaving her failure needles in my arm while sticking in the next one, so at one time I had three fucking needles sticking outta my arm at the same time and I had to just look away and start humming the theme from Saved by the Bell because if I saw that stupid confused look on her face one more time, I would have punched it and there were way too many cops around.
You know, it says a lot about a person when she's sitting in a hospital room thinking she's on death's doorstep and her heart's on it's last string and yet, still, she wishes she had some Oreo's to pass the time. I dunno if there's any hope for me. Therapy...not working. Drugs...not working. Imaginary heart attacks...not working. I'm not sure what's left.
Oh well, back to the drawing board.