When life attacks

I spent yesterday afternoon in the ER – as a visitor. My wife went there because she had the panic attack of all panic attacks and her blood pressure skyrocketed. I wished I could have changed places with her.

I felt terrible that life had overflowed her bucket with lice, my hemoptysis, her crazy workload, and upcoming trip. I realized I was seeing a version of me when I go through anxiety attacks. It scared me because she’s been bulletproof up till now.

What’s kind of nutty is that I had to take a Xanax when she went to the ER because I had a panic attack. It was amusing when the doctor gave her a dose, too, as I was there to drive her home. I smiled because my little pill had kicked in for my pharmaceutical joy ride to the heavens. Sure, Doc, I’ll drive her home. My rocket ship is parked outside and ready to blast off. Maybe we’ll stop at a bar on Mars and knock down a couple of Xanax chasers.

It’s amazing how life and work become so overwhelming and hard to keep up with some days. My sincere thanks to the corporations for ratcheting up worker productivity the last few years. Companies may be right that high productivity is profitable, but they fail to factor in the cost of increased health care expenses. Even my healthy co-workers have problems dealing with the load. Some of them make secret ER visits and numerous doctor visits for their possible stress-related illnesses.

Tomorrow, my wife leaves on a business trip.  I want her to go because it will be good for her. But I don’t want her to go because if I cough up a lot of blood, it’s going to be one crazy time taking care of my daughter. She’ll have to stay with friends or hang out with me in the hospital. “Daddy, let’s go over your symptoms again. From what I can tell you’re experiencing what’s known as a panic attack. Now get over it so I can go back to playing Pokemon?” Okay, I will for you, bossy little princess.

The next three days are going to be like walking around with wet dynamite in my chest, hoping I don’t jostle it. Wish me luck.

7 thoughts on “When life attacks

  1. Ugh. So sorry she had to go to the ER. I will be thinking of you extra-lots these next few days while she is gone. And that your wet dynamite doesn’t detonate. Just try to enjoy a few daddy-daughter days – I’m sure that’s all your little princess wants. Movie marathons are nice and non-dynamite-inducing. ((hugs to you and your family))
    CF wife

    • Liz,

      Thank you. ERs are a drag no matter what. If I didn’t have a ton of work, I’d let my daughter ditch school and we’d drive down to Disneyland. The rain is a problem, too.

      Thanks for the good vibes and hugs. Much appreciated as always.


  2. So sorry you had a bad weekend. Seriously, it pains me that you did. And the rain just adds to the fun, I’m sure.
    If you drive down to Disneyland call me, and we’ll join you guys for one of those gigantic turkey legs. Do you think between all of us we would finish it? Or should we use it instead to beat up CF?
    Sending hugs and umbrellas.

    • Lizi,

      That’s very nice of you to say. Thank you. Things are never dull here as we donate our spare cash to the medical system. How much do I have to spend to get my name on an ER room?

      The rain here today was crazy. The wind made it worse. I’m sure you’re experiencing something similar.

      I like those giant turkey legs. They make me feel like a cross between Henry VIII and Fred Flintstone. We could toss it on the ground in front of it’s a Small World and eat it like dogs on our hands and knees. What a picture to remember. Fun times getting kicked out of the Magic Kingdom.

      I would shove the turkey leg up CF’s ass. Plain and simple. Its shape would clearly cause some discomfort. It’s the least I can do.

      Hugs and yellow lab kisses to you guys.


  3. much love and light and good vibes sent your way for a great three days! Sorry you’re weekend sucked…..here’s to hoping/praying/wishing for some great Daddy/Daughter time without bloody incident! ~j

    • (In Cary Gran voice) Juli, Juli, Juli,

      You’re the best. I can tell you it sucks with my wife out of town. Sucks with a capital S.

      Knock on wood, my daughter was fantastic on day one. Day two coming up.

      A big crawfish hug to you.


  4. Pingback: Air Travel and Hemoptysis

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