On my sick bed

You know how some people are fun drunks? Well if I was a drinker, I would like to be a fun drunk. I know miserable, hateful, mean, nasty, cursing not so fun drunk who called family meetings at 2 in the morning. I would not want to be that type of drunk.

Just like I don't want to be a negative sickly person, dwelling on death and despair. Or rather despair and death. Once you kicked the bucket there really isn't much time for despair is there? That is where I find myself at 2 in the morning. My chest hurts. I still have a cough that sneaks up on me and I can't get comfortable because of the pain. I have no idea what is wrong with my chest. Well, other than the fact that almost 14 months of breastfeeding and pumping has left my boobs looking like floppy ears on a rabbit. I could go on American Idol and sing "Boobs on the ground" and I am sure I would be a YouTube sensation overnight.

But other than that fact, I have no idea why I have been having pains on the the left side of my chest. It hurts to breath, it really hurts to cough and when I sneeze, I think I am going to die. I have no idea how I got here. No injury I can think of, no exercising to strain that muscle. I have been dealing with a bad respiratory infection, sore throat and laryngitis but I took my antibiotics as instructed and regained my voice and (I thought) on the road to recovery. It has been a week and on Tuesday, the pain was getting so bad, I had to see the doctor. I went Thursday morning and said she thought it was the lining in my chest wall rubbing every time I breathe. They did an EKG and the doc did not think it was cardiac related. She ordered me a chest x-ray.

It is a matter of waiting for the results now. I hope it is nothing serious. But then I become negative sickly person and think about my bucket list.

create will - not checked
document all log ins and passwords for spouse to access - not checked
make a video for Dean and Sam to remember their mama - not checked
shave my legs and armpits - really not checked

See what I mean? What would Rod do? He wouldn't know how to go on Facebook and notify people that I croaked. I won't have anyone at my cremation party. And all the bills that I am responsible for, he would not know how to access the accounts online. And since I have not shaved, would Rod even know NOT to put me in a short skirt and sleeveless shirt? There's one more thing on my list now: tell Rod to check the blog for my funeral wishes.

I wish I was a fun drunk.