I’m Covered In Hives — Really?!

What a crappy day.

For about two weeks, I’ve had this pain in my lower neck. I assumed it was from sleeping in a wrong position. Instead of getting better

over the next few weeks though, it really got worse, and this morning, the pain was radiating down my left arm. All night, I’d get up and take some Tylenol, which only barely helped, and try to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but with no luck. This morning, I headed to work, driving my stick shift with one arm. The left one was basically useless.

I usually love Mondays, actually, because it is one of only two days a week I actually work with someone else, and I like going to her house. She has a ranch, with chickens and everything, and it is really peaceful out there. Today, though, it was hard to type, and the pain was really getting to me.

Then, everything got even worse. I get a text from Chef basically saying that he’s really, really ill, and is dying. This breaks my heart on so many levels. For one thing, I don’t want the guy to die. I sure don’t want him to die without the Lord. To add injury to insult, I don’t really know if this message was the truth either, and I hate that I feel suspicious about something like this. But he has a track record of jerking me around when he wants something, and this isn’t the first time he’s alluded to his impending demise. I know that the last few times I saw him, he looked absolutely horrible, so he might be telling the truth. I tried to be encouraging, but I could tell my responses were somewhat guarded, and I can tell he thought so too. The whole exchange ended with him letting me know that he’d be spending the rest of his life with people who actually give a shit about him, and that wasn’t me. His words, not mine. Ouch.

For the record, I do care about what happens to Chef. I’m hurt by what he has done, but I don’t disregard the many, many years he was my best friend and an excellent husband. Unfortunately, circumstances have made it where I have to protect my heart from him, and while that feels so wrong, I don’t know how to trust someone I just don’t trust anymore. The whole exchange really, really was bothering me, and finally, I felt absolutely sick to my stomach. I figured it was all the pain medication I’d been downing for my hurting arm. I figured wrong.

I called Ernie, who tends to put things in perspective for me when it comes to my philandering ex. Ernie lived with Chef and me for awhile and he understands us both very well. I consider him my brother because the word friend just doesn’t do him justice. He was able to talk me off the ledge, and I felt better after venting to him. I got up to brush my teeth and settle into my evening, and lo and behold! I look in the mirror, and I had broken out in hives! They’re all over me!! So, I’m either allergic to Aleve…which I seriously doubt…or the stress of Chef’s news caused my skin to revolt.

I just don’t want the world to end in four days with me having a gimpy arm and looking like I have the measles! 

What am saying? Who’ll be around to judge anyways, right?

Have a nice evening. Mine will be. There’s nowhere to go but up from my little piece of misery today!

— Bird

PS: Don’t you think the utility companies should totally do this!!! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>