So I thought that Princess Kate was a big-assed baby going to the hospital for morning sickness. I am pregnant too. I am sick at least 10 times a day. What do the normal folk do? Pop some Tums and carry a plastic bag in their waistband. Wear a scarf so we can mask odd smells in the grocery store. We don't go all Hollywood exhaustion and commit ourselves to the hospital for days on end, that is ridiculous.
I thought she was ridiculous, until the other day. I had chest pains, like crushing chest pains. Can't breathe chest pains. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't. I have been around the block a few times with heart issues. I was born with a hole in my heart and had it fixed as a teen. I can now successfully freak the shit out of an X-Ray tech when I get a chest x-ray. It looks like I have a bullet in my heart, it is kind of funny to see them look at me after it is done. They don't look you in the face, especially if you can hardly move because you have pneumonia or some shit like that. Anyway I have had some other issues too. I fully believed I was having a heart attack.
I called the back of the insurance card because I needed to know where to go. It was getting bad, there is a hospital 2 minutes from my house but it isn't "in-network". I talked to the nurse and she told me to call an ambulance. Yeah, I am not doing that. Thing is, I am not too fond of the neighbors around here. They are a bunch of stuck up pricks, I am not going to give them a reason to come poke their damn noses in my business. They can go have their own damn heart attack.
So I got there and the doc and nurse were super nice. They probably thought I was being a big baby. They did the x-ray and the aspirin and the Ekg bullshit. The blood work and all. Turns out I wasn't on the verge of death. Apparently throwing up ten or more times a day for 6 plus weeks straight can do a doozy on the joint between your ribs and can cause inflammation in your esophagus that makes you feel like something is stuck in there and you can't breathe. I was just being a fucking worry-wort hypochondriac princess.
It is almost embarrassing I was trying to write a will on an old bank receipt. Trying to come up with some profound words of wisdom for my kids on the sheet of a hospital bed, that's borderline padded wall crazy. I am glad I am ok, but I feel like a complete moron. So what else is there to do with that embarrassing info than to share it with my peeps :)