Dying to Breathe

I can’t fathom how one weekend can start off so great and end so terribly. Saturday morning, my sister and I were able to clean up more garage sale stuff and donate it to a great charity. We met a new great neighbor. I attended the fantabulous wedding of my wonderful friends Peejo and Mabel. And on Sunday night --- my husband rushed to the Emergency room of Medical City Hospital, while I fought for my every breath of air. And ending up vomiting all my dinner too.

It’s 5:27AM now, and I’m still fighting for air. The attending doctor gave me the choice of admittance into the hospital or going home. Being the miser I am, I opted for the latter and now I am majorly regretting it. I had my 6th nebulization treatment in the past 36 days (not counting the three “hospital grade” nebulizations I got at the ER). And yet, I’m still fighting to get the air in. I’m currently sitting on our house’s third floor patio with Gandalf (my laptop). Up here, I can gaze at the open sky and I feel my lungs can get a little bit more air. But the wheeze in my lungs is still very audible and I think I should go to a specialist tomorrow and (maybe) get myself confined.