There Is No G Spot...
But Just For Today
Don't worry ladies, the G Spot will resume (I think) next week. The G in G Spot has a life. I know, I know it doesn't seem fair, does it? Yep, she's shirking her blogging duties for her real life and while I'm as bummed as you are I am not a task master so I gave her the day off. She will be back next week to delight us and answer our questions so you better post some questions or I'm going to ask her about my awful Urinary Tract Infection...
Yep, I am SO going there. I am so going to put the Too in Too Much Information. I'm not going there right away but will get there eventually and you'll get a whole lot of other useless knowledge about me as well.
It begins with me not being able to sleep tonight which is as ironic as it is troublesome because all I've done for the last 6 days is sleep. 2 weekends ago I started feeling the symptoms of a bladder infection or Urinary Tract Infection; it wasn't terribly bothersome but bothersome enough and like any infection it zapped me of energy. By Monday I was feeling fine and went about my week. That takes us to this last weekend where I was a total and complete sloth. Layin' around feelin' all slothlike, taking more naps than usual and having zero energy to do anything but go upstairs and nap some more.
Monday morning was fine, still tired but fine but by Monday afternoon I was peeing fire. (And here we go with the TMI...) Seriously, tears-in-my-eyes-bite-down-on-something-solid-where-is-the-fire-extinguisher pain in my girly parts. Called my Doc, she called in a heavy dose of antibiotics, angel from Heaven next door neighbor Melissa went and picked it up along with some of that urethra numbing, pee staining stuff and I was on my way to wellness. So I thought.
Tuesday: painfully tired. Wednesday: painfully tired, vomiting, back pain, painfully tired. Thursday: still a little nauseated, still painfully tired but overall feeling like the antibiotics are kicking in and that I'm not going to die from undetected, stage 4, metastatic bladder cancer. I know, what a relief, eh?
So this brings me to why I can't sleep. For being so tired you'd think I could sleep right? Well to add insult to injury to my miserable life my home is in shambles. I haven't done much cooking or cleaning or laundry in the last week and the house is looking like it. It looks like a 2 and a 4 year old live here and they don't have a mother and their Dad doesn't give a rip about laundry or clean dishes. And when my home is in shambles it stresses me out and I don't deal with stress like most people. Most people get a headache or they drink 2 beers or they go target practicing or ok, its true, I really have no idea what most people do when they are stressed out but I'm pretty sure they don't completely melt down with a panic attack. That's what I did.
Because I am awake and because I am self-aware I know what triggered it. We were putting the kids down after a perfectly normal evening and Emily couldn't find her binkies and she was FREAKING OUT because she couldn't find her binkies. And of course I couldn't find her binkies and all I could see were piles of laundry, strewn about shoes, strewn about toys and piles of mail that needed to be sorted. Finally after frantically, and I mean frantically searching for binkies I found 2 (she needs one to suck and one to rub her nose with) and put her to bed. Hot Jeff was putting Samuel down and somehow, literally by the grace of God I was able to push through the tightening in my chest to sing Emily a song and get her down before my heart exploded. Someone give me a Mother-of-the-Year Award stat.
As soon as I walked out of her room this insane pressure filled my head and I felt dizzy and short of breath. I seriously felt like there were weights on my chest and that the house was being spun like a top. I went downstairs and outside and stared up at the starry sky and tried to picture the fresh night air filling my lungs back up. Later I explained to Jeff that I felt like my heart was a balloon that when you squeeze it it gets really thin and pale and you know you could pop it with the slightest touch.
Recognizing that I was indeed having a panic attack and not a heart attack I went to Jeff, who was reading, and told him what I was feeling instead of calling an ambulance. I did all the things you're supposed to like breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth and self-talk that it was just anxiety and it would pass. I said out loud to Jeff, "There really isn't a semi on my chest. There really isn't a semi on my chest. There really isn't a semi on my chest" until I finally believed it.
Then we watched Grey's Anatomy and I felt much better.
With all of that said, my ferocious bladder infection caused me to feel crummy all week leading to me falling off the housewife duties leading me to not be able to find binkies leading me to have a debilitating panic attack leading to way too much adrenaline being released in my body leading to me not being able to sleep at 11:52pm on a Thursday night leading me to write a blog post in place of The G Spot. And its probably because of my own G spot that led me to having too much sex-a-roni with Hot Jeff which probably is how I got the darn UTI in the first place.
I think the word we're looking for here is circuitous.
How do you deal with stress? Have you ever had a panic attack? Do you target practice?