Near the end of vacation, I started talking like Marge Simpson. Dead on Marge Simpson, but by the time we got home I was having a horrible time breathing. I thought maybe it was the change in climate or maybe just traveling...I was wrong.
On Tuesday morning, I could barely breath and it felt like someone had knocked me across the back with a baseball bat (which is exactly how I described it to my doctor)...turns out I was really sick. Sick, like "I'd like to put you in the hospital for a few days" sick...wtf?
I managed to keep him from putting me in, but I have to take multiple meds...and I am so not good with that...LOL. I, also, really hate being sick. I am a mean sick person. (Just ask my husband.)
So there it is...the best vacation in the world followed by being deathly ill. "Who could ask for anything more?"...LOL.
I hear, I'll live. We'll see...LOL.