I Almost Died (again!)

Sometimes I exaggerate about dying, which isn't funny, but I have a habit of saying, "Holy shit, I was so scared I almost died!"  or something to that affect.  But a few weeks ago I was really convinced that I was on the verge of dying.  I also have a habit of telling people that I will kill them...I tell the boyfriend almost every day that I'm going to kill him for something as innocent as pinching my arm fat.  Do I have a preoccupation with death?

About three weeks ago I got this weird chest pressure...not pain, but like a cinder block was sitting on my chest.  I was also short of breath.  I didn't think anything much of it and figured it was because I'm out of shape, overweight, and a smoker.  And when I say I'm a smoker I range from 2 packs a month to a half pack a day, depending on the time of the year.  For example, I don't like to be cold so my smoking slows down during the wintertime.  Ask my fellow smoking co-workers; they can't drag me outside even if there was a taco stand in the smoking section, I'm not going out there November through March!  (and this year...April)  

YOU SEE THIS?!  NO!

So I quit smoking.  Nothing changed.  I thought maybe it was all my weird vitamins interacting with each other and trying to kill me so I quit taking all my vitamins.  Nothing changed.  (have I told my mother yet at this point? The RN of the Universe? No, I want to try my own experiments first)  Last week we had a snowstorm and I shoveled the sidewalk and afterwards my chest felt so heavy...I thought I was going to die.  So I went inside and Googled "symptoms of a heart attack" and I had about half of them but only the not-so-severe ones.  If you have ONE symptom you are supposed to call 911!  Fuck that, ain't nobody got time for that!!  So I mixed myself a double Randa-Rita and the next day...it was gone.  

But then it came back and I finally had to tell Nurse MamaWong and she asked me a bunch of questions and said it's probably my gut...I have a hard time swallowing, it's pressure and not pain, it doesn't radiate to my arms and jaw like a heart attack would...she gave me an Omeprazole and about ten minutes later the pressure was gone and I could have run a marathon.  (but not really, that's gross!)  She diagnosed me with GERD...which is not as bad as a heart attach but that's still a gross word to think about and say out loud!

Then Blarbra happened to snap a picture of me this weekend walking drunkenly down the street with a beer bottle in one hand and a 12-pack in the other at 2:30am and she proceeded to post that shit on Facebook for the whole world to see, except I didn't remember that she did it until the next day.  (I guess I told her it was okay but upon seeing it the next day I realized that it was NOT okay!)  Normally I would put that picture here for visual reference but I look so fucking obese that I can't even do it, and you know how much I LOVE to poke fun at my own weight.  For the people who were unfortunate enough to see me at my fattest...I'm sorry.  I was more worried about how FAT I look than the fact that I'm tooling down the middle of the road with a bunch of beer and ya know...could get arrested!!  THAT'S how bad it was.  

The only celeb who catches my attention is JWoww and her damn hoo-haa's.  They are huge, round, obnoxious, gross, uneven, creepy, awesome, weird, fake, superb, special, amazing, sickening, freak-nasty, corrupt, fascinating....well I like her tats and wish I could have a spicy rack like hers.  Don't lie, you all wish you did too, minus the price tag.  ;)

I got home last night and got on that stupid elliptical machine that I bought months ago and is collecting dust.  I wanted to quit after 5 minutes, after 10 minutes, after 15 minutes.  But I pushed through to 20 minutes and then...fell on the floor and died.  ;)  I joke about being fat to cover up the fact that I hate it.  I act like I'm okay with being the way I am but the truth is, I'm really not.  And I know that it's up to me and only me to change it.  It's up to ME to make a difference and prove to myself that I don't have to live with the worries of a heart attack at the young age of 32.  And the truth is...it's time.  I don't need to be super-model skinny, I just need to be healthy.  I don't know where the hell to start but I've done it before so I'll figure it out...again. :)

And it's also time for some ALPACA LOVE!!!