I'm with you on the tears, right now. I was like you, though not as athletically accomplished, I played sports all growing up and worked out, my entire life. When my aortic dissection hit and I survived, I still thought I was invincible. I WAS ALIVE! I still look the same, pretty much act the same, though I have memory lapses and kind of space out occasionally. They know I had at least 2 strokes. 1 prior to my 13 hour surgery and one post. However the doctors told me, I could have had as many as "hundreds". Still, I was whole... at least I thought so and the way people treated me, confirmed my ridiculous belief.
I try to ignore my physical limitations. People look at me strange, when I try to follow the (several) doctor's advice, not to lift anything over 15 pounds. I've defied them many times. I've felt the twinges of pain I shouldn't, when I do. I get tired of doctor after doctor, either telling me, they don't know how to handle it, "this will be a learning experience"... or "dude, I can't believe you're sitting across from me, talking right now. You should be a corpse..." (paraphrasing, but that was the gist). I feel like I should be able to do more.
At least once a day, though usually several times... my vision will start to blur. I can't focus on things. Its like one eye, is fighting the other trying to, I dunno... take the lead? Oftentimes, its like I had rubbed my eyes for 5 minutes straight and I see those stars covering my vision. That's when its bad, because my vision starts to black out, from the corners. They're not sure what's causing it... but think the dissection of both my carotids (think of the tears as restrictive flaps) is causing decreased flow. Because I have to keep my BP below 110/70 (typically it runs 98/56)... the decreased pressure doesn't help, when the vision starts to go... but, then again, they think that might be part of the problem to. Basically, they don't know. They just know, that both my carotids, to the aorta, to the top of my heart, then continuing on the bottom side, to both my kidneys and branches off to the spine, are shredded. Future surgery puts me at a 10% chance of paralysis.
I get vertigo and periods of hhmmm... I guess you could call it "confusion", when I change elevation at all. Doesn't matter how fast I stand up... its gonna hit. I'm used to it, to the point, I throw my arms up and yell, "WHEE!" (kind of like a roller coaster). Might as well enjoy it, eh? It always hits, within seconds of standing up, so if I'm not being an idiot and instead actually paying attention, I'll give myself the time to adjust.
Yesterday however, things changed. I was walking into the VA for my weekly group session. I was at least 50' from my car. Vertigo would have come and gone, by now. Suddenly, its like... I wasn't there. Then I felt my foot hit and I couldn't even respond. I can't remember the last time, I fell and wasn't able to at least limit the damage by falling "correctly", kind of rolling into it. I went from standing upright to suddenly full-body crash to the ground. Today, it feels like someone walked up to me, hit me in the left thigh with a bat, someone else walked up behind me and hit me in the left kidney hard as they could. Then that bat took a couple swings at my ribs as I continued to get hit up my back, to my shoulder. Finally, as I crumpled to the ground... that invisible force, wrenched my neck, for good measure.
My plans for group session had changed. I was whisked off in a wheelchair to see a doctor. Side note: Funny, the clinic says they don't have emergency services. Oh yeah? Take a spill in front of one, some time. lol! During my visit, they asked me if I blacked out. I tried to cover... it was starting to sink in, with my ego. Reality was creeping up, fast. I said something lame, like "I wasn't there for a second, but I felt myself trip. It was just me being clumsy". My doctor got to read the reports for the first time, from the Vascular Surgeons. When they first saw my case (my surgery was outside the VA system), they jumped on it. I've had ultrasounds, MRIs, CT Scans w/ contrast, poked and prodded, I don't care to remember how much over the last 4 months. When my doctor started reading, I knew what it was. He grew silent. I told him, I knew what it said. I had already got copies of the reports. I do it, with all my medical stuff. I've read enough CT reports to have a basic understanding.
I was told yesterday, at 45 years old and appearing of sound mind and body, I need to start using a cane. Why? Because they can't trust my balance, or if I'll black out randomly. Hopefully, I can catch myself before I do the concrete faceplant again.
I don't claim to have your problems, Vito. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, nor walk a mile in them. But, I can understand. I go from thanking God, to cursing him. I ask why I can't do the things I used to do. Fuck... why can't I just do a simple task, like opening a fucking stuck bottle/jar? I wonder every night when I go to bed, if I'll wake up and every morning, if I'll make it through the day.
When I went to get my MMJ card, the doctor just sat there kind of slack-jawed, listening to my story. He actually blessed me, when he handed me my paperwork. Like you, they can have it, when they pry it from my cold, dead fingers.
Sorry for rambling. Had to get it off my chest.