Gerry and I Have No Pacemaker!

 Yep! That's me again.

I haven't really been right since the election. It's more than Trump fear. After seeing his nominees I feel like we're going to get the same ridiculously inept happenings. The only one of the bunch I really worry about is RFK Jr. and only because of my mastocytosis. I fear for proper medication access and the stoppage of drug research most of all.

Enough about that. This week, it has been both coming attractions and past history. Tuesday we went to Price Smart with a friend from here in Tama. We always give her a ride. Got up that morning and just did not feel quite 'right', if that makes any sense at all. Once we were near the piles bags of pet food it happened. My oxygen levels tanked suddenly. One minute I'm slogging along like an over caffeinated sloth, the next minute my entire PriceSmart list erased itself from my mind, and I stopped being able to function as the Wifebot3000. 

Luckily for me the husband took one long look at my white face plus stupid flop sweating self and started throwing all the usual suspects into the cart.  Somehow it got done and we ended up back at home. I only put away the cold stuff, leaving the rest for the next day when I felt more human again. 

Next day, ran a pile of errands and stopped by my friends house because one of her items fell from her bag. I felt good. We visited for quite a while. She asked me if I would pitch in and help paint the scenery backdrops for a local theater production. Told  her I would if I continued to feel better. Tanked oxygen episode sometimes happen before a bad asthma attack. Running errands and having to go sit in the waiting room of the nearest mechanic's shop  turned out to be an enormous problem. The owner's dog, thick fur, shedding undercoat. I haven't reacted to a dog in a raccoon's age and I started having asthma. Bowed out and sat on the benches out front.

But it really didn't get into high gear until I genuinely flubbed up. One of the errands was to pick up milk at the local Walmart subsidiary. I picked up a small package of nougat candies off the final clearance rack because straying into low blood sugar sucks so much and I've issues with that too much lately. Low blood pressure, low blood sugar and low oxygen levels. So I had a couple of these caramel nougats. Second one I bit down only to find a peanut. Immediately spit it out and rinsed mouth out over and over. Too late. Not epipen level, but pretty damn close.

Day after I get a message that I am supposed to be painting that scenery in about an hour from the lady that runs the theater group. Someone I don't particularly like who I initially was not going to help at all. Only agreed after a mutual friend started freaking out over the task. I had to message theater lady and say nope it was not happening because asthma. She didn't take it well. Too bad.

Now we're a week later and I've lost a literal week to this nonsense. A week I don't even remember parts of. Things started then dropped. Example. Cleaned out the china cabinet since it's now in the kitchen to put the coffee stuff in the serving part, and cleaning out the draws for napkins and kitchen towels. Had to stop because random dust in the drawer started provoking me. I got so sick I started with the medical green stuff. No real big relief so on Sunday I bumped up my dose just a smidgen and boy was that a horrible mistake and a half.

Why? High in church. This was one of the few weekends right before Thanksgiving I will attend church. So high I was seeing tastes and tasting colors and had to remind myself how to sit. Somehow I made it through the service (extra boring! Thank you Jesus!) and home again. Husband knew I felt horrible, but not the full extent of being up in the clouds with a hot air balloon of hippies and Grateful Dead fans. Don't ever go to church that high because it's hard to function, deal with folks and stop having obsessive thoughts wondering if your body will remember how to keep breathing.

 Monday I was struggling to get up or get dressed, but by Tuesday I had mostly recovered, straight back into asthma. Discovered that both of my can openers were stripped by someone misusing them. It wasn't me and boy was I pissed off. One was expensive. When I went out to get another I had that typical Costa Rican experience of going from store to store to find a joint that stocked them.

 I was already having a super shitty day, having to wrangle a snake away from Stinky in the living room, and dealing with a spouse that was getting on my nerves because he wanted to invite various folks over for Thanksgiving and I'm just too wacked out on asthma to do that. Said we're going out to the place in Langosta we like instead. He can invite anyone he likes to that not to our home and expect me to cook.

 While I was in line at the one store with can openers I see that Gerry, he of the recent weirdness where he almost pushed me down, and ancient weirdness before and during Covid, was right in front of me. Asked him what the heck, you too good to speak to me now, speech. Claims he didn't remember me. We had a lengthy convo because the line was long, long enough that a set of Americans asked to go in front of us both because they had a mere 20 items. I had 2 and Gerry has but 1! Nope. The joys of high tourist season have began.

So, it turns out the big secret reason he was avoiding both of us was because the last time we'd spoken we were still going to church in Tamarindo, the same church we met Gerry at. He assumed (always dangerous!) that we still went and were enmeshed in that whole scene. He started telling me some of the things that had happened and been said to and about him there. I had to point out yet again that spiritual abuse is a real thing, it's an evil that loves to attach itself to the non-denom Evangelical world. 

Gave him a ride home and we had a good long natter.