On October 2, I posted this thread http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?threadid=90756 about my life sucking pretty hard lately. In short:
My mom got sick and died
My dad went a little around the bend because of it
The WTC and related events
I got fired
My wife needed surgery
I also mentioned my tendency to ask “What’s fucking next?” and how I really needed to break that habit. Guess what, I didn’t.
Last Thursday, 10/11, I woke up and got a cup of coffee like I do every morning. Within a couple of minutes, I noticed a little pain in he left side of my chest. Oh well, nothing major, right? I got in the shower and it got worse, and my pulse started racing, and my breathing got forced. Okay, I’m having an anxiety attack. Always wondered what those felt like.
Got out of the shower, dried off and started to get dressed. Now the breathing is still short, the pulse is still racing, the pain is still in my chest and has moved into my left shoulder as well. I ask Mrs. Angel to take me to the hospital because I think I might be having a heart attack. I’m 32, in great shape and have no contributors other than I smoke(d) and dad has a history of heart problems. Still, I recognize the symptoms and don’t want to push my luck with some kind of macho denial bullshit.
Good news: Turns out I was not having a heart attack.
Bad news: I suffered a spontaneous pneumo-thorax, which means you get a little thing on your lung that pops and makes the lung deflate.
Worse news: While smoking is a contributor (I’ve been quit for a week now, in case you were curious) the primary factor in this is my body type: Seems this shit happens to tall thin people because they’re tall and thin and their lungs are just more vulnerable to it.
So, I got the joy of a chest tube (Don’t let this happen to you if you can avoid it).
I got admitted to the hospital for the first time since I was 13 years old. I NEVER get sick. I come down with a cold once every 2-3 years, but that’s it. I haven’t even had the flu since I was 14. I only see medical professionals for accidents and injuries. Illness never ever strikes me; so I have no coping skills.
I spent six days with a chest tube in, 4.5 of those in the hospital. I couldn’t talk loudly, cough, sneeze, sing (no big deal there) or LAUGH. Imagine six days where you can’t laugh. I nearly went nuts. I was depressed. I was scared. All I wanted was one good belly laugh to set things right, but I couldn’t because my lung might get worse.
I reinflated okay and should be fine, but I now have a 50-50 chance of this happening again at some point. Oh well, if it does, it does. I can’t work out for three weeks, though, and that was my one stress outlet while being unemployed. Going a little batty here.
The worst thing: Mrs. Angel had her surgery on Sat. We discussed it and since it had been scheduled for a while and we didn’t want to put it off any longer, we decided it would be best if she went ahead and did it. She came through fine, but we both feel lousy because I couldn’t be there for her, nor she for me while we were recuperating. We have great and amazing friends who tended to us both, and we realize the necessity, but there’s still some guilt there on both our parts.
Okay, that’s the updated bitch. I’m done asking what’s next. Don’t want to know. Thanks very much, but I don’t care, not interested, no question has been asked so please keep your answers to yourselves, whatever gods may be on desk duty today.