Some days the world crashes down on you and you're able to do nothing else but keep your head out of the deluge gasping for breath.
That was yesterday.
I had been experiencing some health issues that coalesced and started MAJOR SCARY THOUGHTS in my head Sunday/Sunday night. Monday morning I was like a zombie from a combination of symptoms/stress/plain tuckered-outness. So I call the doctor and they don't have room for me. Just loverly. Then Damm calls and says that he doesn't have a PT test on file which means he can't graduate which means he'll be home later than we had expected.
Then I drove to m-i-l's choir performance and really scared myself with how out of it I was and how I probably shouldn't have been driving (this actually happened before Damm called but whatever).
Then things started looking up. Doctor's office called to tell me they could squeeze me in. Male doctor though. I don't like going to male doctors. He tells me that nothing is seriously wrong with me and confirms my self-diagnosis of mastitis (with a few accompanying things that made me worry it was something else). I am now on antibiotics and painkillers and no longer stressed out about hospitalizations and the like.
Then Damm called and although nothing can be done about the PT test he took and passed but didn't get recorded he's in better shape than he thought and he thinks that with a week or two of training he can pass the damn PT test (I'm not emotional AT ALL about the issue). After having been on profile for over two months. I am so proud of my warrior.
And last night I got a full night's sleep. And I have my coffee. And my pills. Things are looking up. We are no longer in danger of drowning.
21 days to wait til the happy reunion.