So Thursday I decided that I was feeling "well" enough to go to the gym and run. I got about a mile on the treadmil and I got called to the daycare to change a diaper, and then decided by the time I came back I wanted to do bodycombat. So I jumped in. Almost an hour through the class, I had to duck out. I couldn't breathe. Not a normal "oh crap wheres my inhaler", more like "oh no I'm going to puke in public and pass out". I made it to the bathroom, by this point I'm sobbing. I sat down on the toilet with my head in my hands and just cried. I was disoriented. I was upset at myself for being weak, for letting myself quit, and for letting my attack get so bad before I quit. I rested for a few minutes then got my boys to take home. I could hardly get them in the car. Then very alert and scared drove home. By the time I got to the door to my house I really couldn't understand how to unlock the door for a second. This prevoked a second burst of sobbing. I sat out on my porch watching my kids in the sandbox pretty close to hysterical. Its scary to be in charge of other lives when you feel that sick. This forced me to do what I don't like to do. Go to the damn doctors again! I hate telling them I don't feel good or somethings wrong. Infact I wait so long I feel emotional to explain why i'm there.
I went to the doctors today, explained my problems and got some different medications for asthma and allergies. I hope they help and not hinder. Sometimes I feel so challenged I don't feel strong enough to face any new ones.
This episode was not easy for me to share. I thank god that I made it home safe and nothing worse happened.
Listen to: Evanescese, "You"
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