Sunday, July 10, 2011


Ugh .... third episode of pluerisy in three weeks. I caved about twenty minutes in and called A for help. I didn't want to go to the emergency room yet again. All they do is run tests to make sure it isn't a heart attack nor pulmonary embolism... but they will give pain killers so that I can breathe again. A accused me of becoming a druggie because I confessed to wanting to go in so the pain would stop. Of course, this was ten minutes after chewing me out because I wasn't taking the pain killers when I was pain free.

Here is how it goes down... I have been pain-free since the last bout with pluerisy, about four days. So, no sense taking pain killers if there is no pain. Went to sleep on a full stomache around 9 pm. At 1 am I was awoken from a deep sleep with this intense, can't take a regular breath kind of pain. I immediately took a pain killer and focused on getting as deep a breath as I can tolerate the pain of and trying to relax. But the pain is so intense, it feels like your lungs are on fire and someone is cutting them out of your body at the same time.

After twenty minutes, I am I utter agony and not knowing what else to do, I call A (who is at the bar) to come and help me thinking I was stuck going to the emergency room. After he yelled at me for not taking the pain killers, then accusing me of becoming an adict, he accused me of either wanting to die or making it all up because I want the drama in my life. I told him to get out. That if I couldn't stand the pain for another ten minutes I would call an ambulance instead. Thankfully, by then it the pain meds had finally started to kick in instead.

I know that 95% of his attack was because everytime he sees me like that he remembers my near-death when he was 16. But that doesn't excuse his treatment of me. I was sitting there trying to get air into my lungs, pale, shaking and barely able to walk due to pain and he is accusing me of loving the drama. Sigh.

But, truth is... it would have been mostly useless to go to the emergency room... I don't know what I expected him to do. Its not like he has a way to help me with the pain while I am waiting for the pain pills to kick in.

I will eventually find a way to forgive his behavior... he's the only family I really have other than my eight year old son. I have never felt so alone as I did when I told him to leave last night.

Add to it feeling like I am walking some sort of tightrope where I never know when I will be struck down with this again. All things considered, its good that even if there is no treatment for it that it doesn't cause any long term damage... but the intensity of the pain just drops you. Then add how hard it becomes to breath and how oxygen levels drop as a result of that... and its a pretty scary event.

I am going to call the doctor on Monday, maybe he can do some more in depth testing. Or better yet give me some coping skills for during an attack... 40 minutes of shockingly intense pain coupled with difficulty breathing ... is a REALLY long 40 minutes.
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