Breathless

"The worst thing about having anxiety and asthma is not knowing when you just think you're going to die and when you're actually going to die," I texted my sister-in-law (who should have been my real sister, an error the universe fixed by bringing us together anyway) this morning.

This started yesterday evening but I realized it was asthma as I was lying on my bedroom floor in front of the humidifier in the middle of the night, clutching my rescue inhaler which was reading 0 on the little "how many puffs 'til you die" window.

I have mild, seasonal asthma which is usually a problem once or twice a year, almost always when my inhaler is for some reason unavailable.

I called the nurse's voicemail and left a wheezy message explaining that I want a prescription refill but I do not want to come in and talk about it because it's an ongoing situation and driving is hard without breathing. That I have a physical scheduled in two weeks, and we can talk about it then or sooner. Or that I would come today if I had to, because not breathing and/or urgent care aren't options this weekend, but that would suck for me. I was doing the trying not to cry thing at the end, so it better work.

Big Kid can sense my quiet, stressed out panic and is trying to help by keeping me engaged in conversation. Incessantly.

So far it's not helping.

Cough drops help temporarily but my morbidly obese cat is obsessed with cough drops, so I have to continuously push him away from my face and mouth, while Big Kid talks about Disney films that should never have been made.

The dog is wildly jealous of the cat, so when he sees the cat in my lap, trying to steal what little breath I have, he has to get in on it too and nervously stands with one paw on my thigh and stares back and forth between me and the cat, while trying to lick my ear. With the cat sniffing my breath and Big Kid telling me his stories.

I'm really at a point where I'm wondering why I even want to breathe in the first place. What was it that I liked so much about breathing?

The nurse will call me back at lunch and I'm going to go hide in the bathroom in a cloud of steam until then.

If I die, please tell Netflix that I loved them.