This morning I woke up with a horrendous asthma attack. Hah! Actually, most people with asthma would tell you it was not that bad at all. I didn’t turn blue or go to the hospital, LOL. But to me, on the slow journey into this new world of asthma, it was scary and overwhelming.
I hadn’t been able to feel like I could get a full breath for about ten days or so, and somehow it erupted this morning in the shower. So while I was panicking and doubled over the toilet, throwing up as my lungs spasmed and coughed to get a breath through the drowning fluid, DH found the inhaler. After some wimpy tears (I am not one of those steadfast, elegant types you see on TV who bear illness with dignity), I could breathe again.
BUT, I’m not writing that to complain. I’m writing it to say that after that, I kept walking around going, "Wow, I can breathe!" I’d take a breath and it would reach all the way to the bottom of my lungs and I’d practically whoop out loud. I hadn’t been able to breathe that deeply in ages. Every breath today--what, maybe thousands?--has given me a feeling of relief that it worked, and gratefulness that it worked and felt just so good.
And as if I wasn’t happy enough about being able to breathe, we then went to Borders so I could write all day. With so much gratitude flowing through me for being able to breathe, I was practically giddy at the thought that I actually got to spend a whole day writing and reading and wandering through the bookstore.
Then, as I was book-puttering, I realized there’s a few writing books that have come out in the past year or so I haven’t read yet. Why don’t I review one a week or something?
By that time, I was practically giggling in public, all by myself.
You know, it really rocks to be a writer. And a musician. I get to think about music and words and stories and rhythm all day long. How awesome is that?
I think I should start every morning grateful that I can breathe. Why do we have to get sick to remember the simple stuff like that?
We’re alive. That’s pretty cool, you know? Most everything else is pretty much alterable, if you’re not dead.