I’m one of those people who types their symptoms into the Google search box and then starts to have irrational fears about being sick with all the dreadful diseases that come up. I am convinced the internet should be the last source to consult when your body is not well.
But this time, it turns out, I did have what the internet diagnosed based on my symptoms. It’s pleurisy. An inflammation in my right lung. Basically it hurts to breathe. So I just don’t.
I’ve had pleurisy before. This time around the pain doesn’t seem quite as intense, but I am attributing that to the fact that I have been through childbirth three times and my perspective on pain has been forever altered. So I tolerate it better. But a sneeze, yawn, sigh, laugh can all cause exquisite pain. Blowing my nose? Not an option.
This is also a problem because one of my coping mechanisms for those difficult moments of motherhood throughout my day is to take a deep breath.
I was feeling just a little bit sorry for myself when I thought of a woman I know. She is terminally ill, but she is kind, unselfish and a joy to be around. Why is it that when my body isn’t well, I am prone to self-pity and laziness?
I guess I will just keep getting pleurisy until I learn what I am supposed to learn here.
**I am feeling much better as the week progresses and therefore do not need any comments that would validate my self-pity, but I appreciate your sympathy.