That was a dream.
A few days before my birthday, and throughout the month of August I got laryngitis. Which at first I thought was super sexy. I just love me a woman with a low raspy voice. It was super hot. Until all my friends had heard it. And I couldn't talk at all. And it lasted for 4 weeks.
When my voice came back I started getting sick about once a week with the old pukies. Just randomly I'd be sick. And since I'm not on the super health-nut side of the scale.... I figured my body just didn't agree with a Big Mac AAAAAAnnnnd the 20 piece nugget. and a large Cokey. Or the next time it happened I figured the habeneros were a step too far and maybe I shouldn't have added them to my wing sauce. I mean, come on. Bear with me. We all make dietary mistakes. Coke and Froot Loops for breakfast constantly sounded good to me!
I am who I am.
All this vomiting climaxed a fateful day in October and I ended up in the emergency room. They did emergency surgery to take my gull bladder out. Which was full of gull stones and had collapsed upon itself. Now, note.... I love saying "emergency surgery" because it makes me feel prominent and important... and, yeah, a little rich. But I'm not foolin' anyone. They treated me just like the next person with a bum gull bladder.
When the thing came out I felt a lot better. I swore of Coke. Still haven't had any. I've been clean for 27 days. Miss it like hell.
My high-rise to health... which was more of a hunched over, timid scuffle... you know... the incisions and what not. It was short lived.
On Halloween I went trick or treating with my kids and had dinner with my sister.
Saturday morning I was back in the emergency room.
I thought I was having a heart attack.
They ruled that out. And took like 15 more test before givin' me any meds.
I was sent home around noon being told I had Pleurisy.
Pleurisy is when the pleura around your lungs becomes inflamed and makes it extremely difficult to breathe.
They said after one painful week I'd be back to normal.
I would have given a sigh of relief but I couldn't muster up enough air.
Sunday I went back to the ER. (Filling up my punch card. I hear after 10 visits in a month you get a 5% discount.) I had been throwing up about every 15 minutes for like.... 9 friggin hours.
After hours and hours of tests the good doctors told me I didn't have pleurisy.
I had a gull stone still floating around from my surgery and it had blocked my liver. And all the bile was building up in my blood.
I was so relieved they knew what was wrong. FINALLY!
I just started begging, "Put me under. Put me under. Put me under."
They refused. Arrogant medical community.
I ended up getting jaundiced and none of those good good hospital drugs would help with the pain or the vomiting.
It was a rough day and a half.
In the morning they went through my mouth to remove the blockage.
When I woke up I felt like a new person. Not pukey. Not yellow anymore. Just normal Patty.
Well... normal for what I gander an 80 year old would feel like.
I'm up to taking about 50 paces before I'm winded.
And sadly all those wonderful hospital drugs have worn off.
And I have a stinking zit on the inside of my ear.
But I'm hell bent on surviving clear to my thirty-FIRST birthday!
So don't you worry about me!