Everything Under The Tropical Sun

It was Labor day and for most of us, our day off… and as usual, it wasn’t for my dear hubby. He went to work because they had a lot of deadlines this weekend. In fact, they worked yesterday. But my hubby didn’t because of our little scare last Friday.

He came home and we had dinner as we always do. Everything was fine and nothing seemed out of the ordinary… and as usual he had his “little” asthma attack before going to bed and used his inhaler. Then he complained that he still couldn’t breathe. I didn’t think anything of it because he would normally go into his asthma attacks and always, the inhaler helped. But this time, he was antsy. I told him to use the nebulizer but maybe it’s because he felt his inhaler made matters worse, he opted not to. After pacing a few more times, he looked at me and said: “We have to go to the hospital.”

My heart started racing. I tried not to worry until I had all the facts. But he rarely complains about anything… PLUS he hates seeing anyone who has to wear a white coat for a living. For him to ask me to take him to the hospital was enough to get me really really worried. A million scenarios played through my head while on the way to the hospital. I found myself silently picking things off and praying that I was just being paranoid. But he couldn’t breathe and he was dizzy.

We got to the hospital sometime around 10:30. Thankfully the doctor was able to see him immediately and he didn’t order him to the O.R. or anything like that so I was a bit relieved. But when he asked for an X-ray and ECG test, my heart and mind started working overtime again. But the tests came up negative. His blood pressure was normal and nothing was really wrong with him. The doctor said that it might be gastrointestinal acid reflux disease. In layman’s terms: easy up on the coffee, softdrinks, alcohol, and other such vices.

He was still complaining about his shortness of breath so I guess he had a slight anxiety attack too. (But to be honest, if the nurse took my BP, it probably would’ve been high and she’d say that I was having an anxiety attack.) So they gave him a sedative (he was quite happy about that) to calm him down and calm his breathing pattern. We got out of the hospital at around midnight. But when we got home, he was still complaining and had to “consciously” breathe.

He’s okay now but gave me quite a scare. I weighed myself yesterday. I had to go on and off the weighing scale about 5 times because I couldn’t believe what I saw: I lost 5 lbs. Was it because of our little scare last Friday? My body had to go on an adrenalin spree because of the worry? If it is… well, that’s one workout regimen I don’t ever want to go on again.

The world – meaning MY world – is right again… I picked him up last Saturday at the airport and I have my husband back! Three cheers for ME! Hip Hip……… Hip Hip……… Hip Hip…. HURRAY!!!

What changed? How come my world is right up side now that he’s back? Here’s a few:

1. I can fall asleep easily (it’s difficult to fall asleep when he’s not around).
2. I wake up earlier (semi-depression causes me too oversleep – slightly extreme, I know).
3. I eat better (because I cook for him instead of cooking – or the lack thereof – for myself).
4. I’m relaxed.
5. I’m inspired.
6. I’m loved.

I spent the first 23 years of my life searching. I’ve always had a feeling that I was missing something. That feeling turned into desire and the desire turned into desperation until it turned into an obsession. I was obsessed in finding my other half. The search has led me to make one bad choice after another, creating multiple heart aches and pain along the way of my own doing. It wasn’t until I resigned to letting the obsession go that I discovered my other half was actually me.

I was my own missing “something”.

He came. He found me. He saw someone whole but broken.

I was whole. I no longer felt like I was missing something but I was broken. I needed mending and he did that with me. He helped me mend the broken pieces of my soul simply by loving me. He showed me how to love myself. He accepted everything. All of me.

I’m not considerate.
I’m VERY impatient.
I’m not very nice at times.
I can be judgmental.
I can be mean and selfish.

He still loves me inspite of my ugly side. I used to hate myself because of it. He even suffered for a time. I don’t know exactly when things changed. I just know that I’ve slowly started to accept myself for all that I am as he did. Now, I’m whole and not broken. Without him and his love my life would’ve been a drama-filled pit of self-pity and hate. This, I realized while he was away.

But now he’s here and nothing else matters. My world is right again.

You left this morning anad I’m missing you already. I know it’s for work and you have to do it but it doesn’t stop me from missing you.

I miss coming home and sharing my day with you.
I miss kissing you “Hi!” after a long day’s work.
I miss watching American Idol with you and sounding off opinions about the contestants with each other.
I miss whining that I don’t like our dinner to you.
I miss your wit.
I miss laughing with you.
I miss you making me laugh.
I miss your face.
I miss your tattoo.
I miss you so much.

I can’t wait for Saturday. I’m going to get off work early to pick you up. I’ll spend three excruciating nights without you but I know I’ll see you again. I love you.