As The Blogger Wheezes

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So yesterday my asthma decided to throw a big old tantrum and, much to my extreme displeasure, I ended up at the emergency room.  I hate going to the emergency room and I hate missing work and I hate my stupid asthma acting all stupid and such.  So they forced a rather jaw-dropping amount of breathing treatments into my pathetic respiratory system, started an I.V., did a blood gas (which, in case you are lucky enough not to know what a blood gas entails, is the delightful practice of jabbing a nice, fat needle into the artery in your wrist.  Your arteries have nerve endings…lots of them.  So, it’s excruciatingly awesome.  Really.), and then ended up admitting me overnight for observation.  Just gobs of fun, that.  And today I was all stoked they were sending me home, but then totally un-stoked when they informed me I have to take the evil, vile, despicable, rotten, disgusting, repulsive, nasty Prednisone (which was, I am quite sure, invented by Satan himself) and that I am not allowed to return to work until Saturday.  I loathe missing work, but it’s especially deplorable since the other key holder is going on vacation this week, so now my manager and assistant manager will have to work a ton of extra hours to cover the shifts with both key holders gone.  And I will have absolutely no paycheck on the 20th–not so much as one penny.  Siiiiigh.

My trip to Illinois was awesome though!  The wedding was great–my girls looked amazing!  And Chloe was so cute–she kept waving at me and blowing kisses and signing “I love you” to me when she was waiting for her flower girl duties to begin.  She did a great job as flower girl–she didn’t throw the flowers at anyone or whack anyone with her basket or anything!  Not that she’s some evil little kid that enjoys being violent, it’s just that she can get overwhelmed sometimes and kind of lose her shit a little, just like anyone else.  Elise looked beautiful, as always, and she almost ruined my “I never cry at weddings” streak when she cried during her speech to the newlyweds, which made me cry.  But, it totally doesn’t count since I cried AFTER the wedding and it wasn’t because of the wedding, it was because my niece cried.  So I’m still good on the whole not crying at weddings thing.

Daily randomosity:  Hospital beds–not comfy.  At all.  Apparently, my being gone for three and a half days and then in the hospital last nigh has convinced my cat that he has to be even more clingy than usual.  After debating whether to paint my toenails pink or orange, I ended up painting them teal-ish blue, which matched the outfit I wore to the wedding.  But I’m already debating between the pink and orange again for next time.  Did I mention I really, really, really, really hate Prednisone?  I did an internal happy dance when I saw the heels the girls in the wedding party had to wear…I would have been in the wedding if Carrie hadn’t thought it might get me in trouble with someone (which is hilarious since I ended up in trouble with that person anyway), which I was okay with since I also thought I’d get in trouble.  And, to be honest, getting all fancied up and forking over bunches of money for clothes I will be utterly uncomfortable in and will never wear again just isn’t really my thing.  And I don’t do heels, like, ever…especially heels like the ones the girls had to wear at the wedding–yikes!  They were, like, super duper deadly high.  Pretty sure I would have ended up tripping and falling flat on my face in front of everyone or breaking my ankle or something similarly graceful.  I wish I had a pet tree frog.  I’d name him something like Senor Allejandro Waffles.

Laters!

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2 thoughts on “As The Blogger Wheezes

  1. Tom

    I have no idea why, all of a sudden, your lungs decided that they needed a time out, but I’m sorry you ended up there. It’s frustrating for the rest of us too because we know how much you hate it and we can’t do a damn thing to help either.

    Like

    • You do help, silly. You help by listening and being supportive. You help by never making me feel like my issues aren’t legit. You help by making me laugh and understanding when I need to just have a bit of a sobfest. You kinda totally rock and stuff. Dork.

      Like

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