There I was minding my own business, finishing up the last bites of lunch, and talking with a co-worker, when all of a sudden the Dysphagia Fairy paid a little visit. The coughing. The gagging. The hacking. The involuntary expulsion of mandarin orange out my mouth, possibly out my ears as well. And the knowledge that, ten minutes before an all-office staff meeting, I needed to go home and change clothes.
Stress incontinence is a beast. I coughed so hard that I could feel it in my ankles (sometimes I feel that when I sneeze, as well, the violent buildup of fluid pressure throughout my system which demands release in publicly embarrassing ways).
My co-worker stayed long enough to be convinced that I was not actually choking, that I could breathe, that I could talk (if gaspingly). He’s a good guy.
A few seconds later, after I had stood up, my managing attorney came in, looking specifically for me, because she wanted me to head up a team at the meeting. I quickly explained that I needed to leave, that I had had an episode and peed all over myself, and that I would fill out my electronic absence request and notify people, and scoot.
My best friend at the office was at a printer. I asked her if anything were visible. She said no (and she would have told me if it were otherwise). I got the heck out of Dodge.
I came home, had a nice long soak in the tub, and took a nap, setting the alarm so that I would not miss my massage appointment. There were all sorts of trigger points, et al, and she strongly recommended that I see the chiropractor, as I may have done something to a rib (or two) with the coughing yesterday. She’s also not crazy about my trick knee. Neither, frankly, am I.
I will try to get in to see him today. I feel a lot better this morning. My throat doesn’t hurt any more, but I’m a little croupy. And I am really, really tired, in part because I tackled half of Mount Washmore last night. The rest of it is out in the car, and I will finish up tonight.
Doll pictures are up on the other blog. Eventually I’ll do a link or a box opening on Den of Angels.
Life is good, although I am feeling my age this morning. Actually, I am feeling more like my sister’s age: she is 75 today!
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!