You a few days.
You see, Mommyhood has a special set of ailments. Arthritis, t2 diabetes, and this year the cream on top of my autoimmune Sunday? Asthma.
I always expected to get arthritis. Genetics determined that one so when it happened I was mentally prepared to deal with it. Two gestational diabetic pregnancies from gamer boy and scooter girl sealed my diabetic fate. Imagine three shots of fast acting insulin and one slow acting at bedtime for six months. That's four shots a day for you higher math junkies. Never question why I am such a cynic folks. Without this humor I would simply die.
Fast forward to 2013. In mid 2012, he who shall not be named was caught by Mommyhood texting his home wrecker....what to call her? She is almost not deserving of a nickname. I caught these texts and researched. He who shall not be named was sending over 7000 text messages per month to the home wrecker and not even answering mine. The point I am trying to make here is that my asthmatic status and onset directly coincide with he who shall not be named leaving the picture and becoming the thorn in my proverbial lung. Asthmatic humor. Gotta love it.
I admit the stress was overwhelming and I started smoking again in late February 2013. I wasn't smoking a ton but for my already exhausted and stressed body it was definitely not what I needed but it seemed to take the edge off so I was all for it.
I met Captain Handsome by fluke a month after he who shall not be named bailed. Now make no mistake. I tried to get he who shall not be named to come home eight times and one more before my relationship with CH was sealed. Every time he told me no. Every time he told me I had to change my materialistic ways. He who shall not be named caused me severe stress I blew off...but obviously it was inside, festering.
Captain Handsome was by my side immediately and knew I was very broken. He was with me nearly nightly though retained his own residence until about six months later when he moved in. He has told me he knew he was in love with me within about two weeks. He was flying in Peru for about five days and I thought I would die missing him. He came home and we exchanged I love yous and he has been my devoted love ever since.
And devoted he must've been because within a few weeks of being together I had my first full blown asthma attack.
It was like 2am and CH was sleeping quietly next to me. I woke up choking and very disoriented. Captain was on it fast- running for my albuterol and helping me take a few puffs. I slept fine that night.
The second attack I had I awoke about the same time in the morning. I was nearly unconscious and severly oxygen depleted. My limbs burned and my chest was closed. I remember struggling to reach over to alert my pilot and when I did he literally had to force the albuterol into me. It was unrelentingly painful being that oxygen starved and had he not been there I literally might've died.
The third attack I had involved symptoms from the first two attacks. I became cognizant that I was in the bathroom though I have no memory of going there. Captain was again on me like flint and got me breathing.
After spring allergy season it seemed to abate. Emergency albuterol was only used sporadically.
Fast forward then to now. November. My stressors are high. He who shall not be named has deadbeat status and has paid nothing toward the support of the kids for 11 months. Court clinic is looming. Captain handsome has gone to fly the Vegas hub for a week....add into it my store is coming up on Black Friday, I'm almost out of pto...times are tight....
And kaflooey. 330 am on 11-14 I start to feel tight. My breathing is shallow and erratic. Captain handsome and gamer boy have both had head colds and coughs and so I figured that's what was up with me. I was pissed but didn't feel entirely sick. It was strange. I labored all day, unable to sleep or rest due to the lack of deep breaths and finally around six pm I said to my children "get your shoes on, now. Mommy needs a doctor."
We were in the car within moments and on our way to urgent care. I texted Captain Handsome and told him I'd gone to urgent care and was having breathing problems. "Where? Location?" He texted back. And within about 30 minutes he was by my side.
My oxygen level was 81. 3 nebulizer treatments later and with oxygen not improving, I was loaded embarrassingly into an ambulance and taken to the ER. I was on oxygen and two more nebulizer treatments and by now I was shaking out of my skin because as many of you know, albuterol gives quite the buzz. They gave me adivan to bring my happy, wheezing ass, back down. My family arrived for moral support and Captain Handsome never left my side.
Five hours later I was released.
This experience was horrible and I now have an at home nebulizer. My breathing continues to be terribly strained.
Moral of this blog? Stress can eat you alive, even when you don't think it is. Find some positive outlets or just do yourself this one big favor. Make sure your betrothed isn't a scum sucking soul eater BEFORE you marry them. The repercussions from the stress of escaping your prison are serious and can be life threatening. This whole year I've felt relatively strong. According to my body, holding onto the fallacy of that strength is causing bronchial stress.
Be honest and be with your pain. I no longer have a choice.
And yes, for inquiring minds, I have escaped my prison.
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