18:00 Jan 26 2009
Times Read: 679
Getting older is a real pain in the ass.
My mind doesn't feel old. Hell, I still feel like I'm 21...ok..well, maybe more like 31, but STILL!
My body, however refuses to go along with the charade.
Last night we had hot dogs for dinner. I made the chili from scratch because it's their favorite, but I didn't remember to take my little purple pill.
At three this morning, I was reminded why I should ALWAYS take the little purple pill.
I sat up so quickly, my mind was reeling. I thought at first that I was dreaming, but no, unfortunately it wasn't a dream.
I felt this aweful burning in my throat and a soreness that reminded me of the worst cough I ever had. It even hurt to breath!
That's when I realized it. It hurt to breath because I was having so much trouble doing it. As quickly as I realized it, I jumped out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. I thought it would surely be better if I could just vomit and get whatever it was in my throat out!
I couldn't seem to get a breath of air down my throat without struggling. Exhaling was no easier, but at this point...there wasn't much left to exhale.
My husband was up and running..thank God for him! I could hear him tell me to slow down..to try to relax and I could breath easier. But let me tell you, when you're not breathing...relaxing is the last thing on your mind! I was really and truly scared that I was going to die right then and there from lack of air.
I did a quick look at myself in the mirror and thought...of fuck...I have the most comfortable gown on, but it looks like a ton of hawaiin flowers exploded on it and it's about a size too big. My hair, which started out in a ponytail last night is now crunched onto the left side of my head and my whispies out front have become wired masses. I even noticed my sleep swollen eyes that were now tinged with a bit of purple and were completely bloodshot.
This was how I was going to die. I couldn't even tell my husband to make sure he changed my gown and fixed my hair.
I don't know why..I'm not particularly vain, but for some reason I was standing there...gasping for air to breath and thinking about how I'd look if the EMTs had to come take me to the morgue.
It felt like forever that I stood there gasping...my voice, when I could get something out, was raspy and strained. I kept telling my husband that I couldn't breath and he kept telling me to relax. I remember say...I CAN'T BREATH!!. In my mind I'm saying...let me cut off your air supply and tell you to relax, mother fucker!
I tried, though. I was consciously trying to slow the breathing down, even though it meant less air trying to sneak in. I'm not sure how long it took. Probably no where near the infinate amoutn of time that it felt like it took. But I did finally start to relax and the air was a little easier to take in. Slowlyl, but surely, I was taking in more air and slowly exhaling it.
My throat felt like it was being torn apart with sandpaper on fire.
After all of this the hubby tells me he gets that once ina while...acid reflux. It's not fun, and apparantly, I've slept through his bouts with it. That makes me feel horrible too.
I was crying when it was all said and done. I kept saying I thought I was going to die. He was pretty freaked out abotu the whole thing too. He said I should spend the rest of the night in the recliner. It always works for him.
I tried laying back on the bed, but he was right. The recliner was much better. I didn't get that horrible feeling in the recliner. The feeling that I still had something lodged in my throat just waiting for me to go back to sleep before it made a come back.
At work a friend assured me that the worst that would happen is that I would pass out and then I would be so relaxed that the breathing would come easier.
I'm not so sure I believe that and I damn sure don't want to find out.
No more chili in the evenings for me.
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