Vesuvius and Me: A Caregiver's Heart Under Pressure I have been to the emergency room twice this week. Both times for the same thing: my blood pressure spiking into crisis territory, high enough to demand CT scans, an MRI, blood work, IV medication, hours of monitoring while machines beeped and doctors asked me, gently, if I was under a lot of stress. I almost laughed. I am nearly 71 years old. My daughter is nearly 42. I am the person responsible for the care of my most loved daughter who is now a grown woman, and experiences a developmental disability, a fierce and fun personality, and a nervous system that can go from calm to eruption with almost no warning. I have spent most of my life being ready for that eruption. My body, it turns out, has finally decided it can't be ready anymore. It is telling me, in the clearest language it has, that something has to give. The Job No One Sees People who don't live this life imagine caregiving as something you clock in and o...