Something is wrong. Since late fall I’ve been experiencing chest pains that come and go. Sometimes they stay for a few days. Sometimes they are movement activated. Sometimes there are just flashes of pain. I had these a bit when Marc and I were first married. After getting an EKG, the doctor established back then that it was muscle related. She gave me some muscle relaxants. I took one that night and spent the night hallucinating and wanting to kill myself. (I stopped taking them after that.) I should’ve written down the name of that drug to ensure I never take it again!
Fast forward eleven or twelve years. Chest pains are back off and on. Unfortunately, they’ve been “on” for two full days now. I can’t tell why. And at first I wasn’t so sure it was muscular. You see, the pain is right in the middle at the back of my left breast. (I’m more of “boob” girl, generally. But since this is a “medical” post, we’ll use the more technical term.) This concerns me. Twelve years ago, I was worried it was my heart. These days, I’m more concerned about some kind of tumour. I go see the doctor on Thursday to get it looked at, and will hopefully find some answers.
In the meantime, I cannot breath in full breaths without there being a sharp pain in my chest. It hurts to cough and it hurts to laugh. It seems to be most uncomfortable at night where I can only sleep comfortably on my right side. It really hurts to turn over, and laying on my back or left side are not an option. The pain today has extended out to my left shoulder. While this is annoying (especially since my left shoulder is my GOOD shoulder — the right one has been separated for almost 20 years now), it is kind of good because it makes me think it probably is a muscular thing.
But back to the laughing. It really hurts to laugh.
And so, of course, when Marc was beginning to proof-read my theology paper tonight, he had to start doing things like change part of my table of contents to “Reconciliation as POOP”. And then he started typing out everything I was saying: “Reconciliation as no…. it hurts to laugh… stop… I mean it.” (Actually, this sounds more cruel than funny, now that I’m typing it.) Anyway, Marc thought this was hilarious. He was doing his “wheezy heart attack” laugh which is almost impossible for him to stop. I thought it was funny too. Except that it hurt so much to laugh. And to not be able to stop laughing. I was crying by the end of it. And told Marc he may need to leave the room if he didn’t stop laughing. I walked away. He stopped laughing. And his punishment is a 17-page paper on “Reconciliation as Relationship” not POOP.
Here’s to some helpful answers on Thursday and a good night’s rest brought to you in part by Advil.