Our old reliable Ford Escort ( 1991 with 170k on the odometer) has decided it needs a new alternator. It’s been running on the battery alone for god knows how long and hubby had a mechanical buddy of his check it out and diagnose the situation. He will fix it this weekend. I am without a car, which is fine as I have no desire to go anywhere.
I haven’t been able to breath since Monday and the doctor gave me an RX for my ear infection (that I still don’t think I had because I had no pain) But my throat has finally stopped hurting like a lit match was dropped in it ( except when I cough) and my head is clearer in small amounts but I cannot breath. I called in the the doctors office with my raspy psuedo Demi Moore voice today and BEGGED for something to help me intake oxygen soon. I’m doing so much panting I might as well start up a 900 number. If I lay down, my head fills up with guck. If I stand/sit up, it goes away. I cannot sleep in an upright position. I’ve come to the conclusion my body is slowly trying to kill me.
In less depressing news: We have narrowed down the name for the Baby To Be Named Later. Hubby has been pushing ( against a brick wall, might I add) for Tatiana (UGH x 100) and I just can’t give a girl a name of perfume. Might as well name her Escada or Chanel #5. I told him my two newest choices - It’s a secret, so no one tell our families or friends - Tegan or Sophie. They are under advisement until I have a mood swing and decide to name her Shirley.