It's Saturday night, Audrey is going to bed because, well it's obviously bed time. Tara is rubbing her gross face on the carpet and spinning around like a monster. I am waiting on the water to boil so I can make some Kraft Mac & Cheese.
Suddenly, I get this pressure in my chest. Ouch, now it's getting extremely sharp. Slowly, it starts moving it's way up into my neck. I go in my room and lie down next to Audrey, who is watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, give her kisses and say, "Remember how you figured out how to call 911 on mom's phone? If I die, you need to do that. Mama loves you more than anything baby. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
I start trying to find my pulse in my neck and begin freaking out. I can't find it. I've taken so many first aid and cpr classes and I know not being able to feel it is bad. OH FUCK! I'M DYING! I'M HAVING A HEART ATTACK! No, no, I am fine. I'm not a doctor, it's all in my head. I will be okay.
I kiss Audrey again and get up and go to the living room. No way I'm going to die in front of my daughter. I decide to Google my symptoms like any other sane hypochondriac would do. As I'm searching, I begin to get a terrible headache. Nooooo! It's a blood clot moving to my brain! I start singing "Do You Want To Build A Snowman?" to see if I'm getting the symptoms of a stroke. Still singing off key and my face isn't sagging yet, good sign. Arms can still flail around. I begin stretching and start some push ups. No clue why I thought starting an exercise routine while I'm dying would reverse it.
Well, if I am going to die, I am going to at least make that mac & cheese because I'm still really hungry. I began to finish it up and start tearing up a bit, not sure from the pain or fear. I don't want to die. I'm only 26. I know I drink a lot and eat way too many cheeseburgers but I still get some exercise and I am not as big as a house!
Did you know that mac & cheese can be gross? Well when you're upset because you think you're dying, it does. Some comfort food. I start drinking some milk with it. Suddenly my chest pain in dissipating. I just sit there and begin to talk with God. All of a sudden there is this ridiculous burn in my throat and I let out the biggest belch, one that would shame most men!
GAS! IT'S JUST INDIGESTION! I'M NOT DYING! Thank you, Jesus! Seriously, this is why you don't leave a hypochondriac alone for a weekend. If she doesn't die from a heart attack, she will probably die from the stress of thinking she's dying from a heart attack.
This has not changed my opinion on my drinking or eating habits. Nor do I plan on buying a million dollar work out plan. But I do think I may need to start taking some acid reflux medicine.
I'm going to celebrate surviving my fake heart attack with some low fat ice cream now.
*Alyssa*