That's What We Call Ew...

I remember my first panic attack. Granted, I haven't had a LOT of them, but still. My first one. It was within the first year my ex and I were married. We were headed home one night from my brother's house. As we approached the intersection where you would turn to go to the hospital, I just knew I needed to go. So I told him that I thought I was having a heart attack and we went. Clearly, I wasn't having a heart attack. They hooked me up to the machines and checked me out. I overheard the doctor being snarky at my expense and then, suddenly, I was released with the instructions that I needed to destress (story of my life, people!).

It's been a long time since I've had a panic attack. They quit a short time after the divorce and I've only ever had a couple since. However. Friday morning they nearly came back.

Isaac went to the gym and I got up to check blogs and email before we started our day. A few minutes after he got home, I smelled the beauty that is bacon coming up the stairs. So I decided to go and see if it was done. I padded down the stairs, dreaming of a lovely breakfast before we tackled the fall garage clean up. I moved around the bar and felt something under my foot. It was big and...fuzzy? Huh. I know my floor needs cleaned, but...HOLY HANNAH!



Yeah. I totally stepped on that. Barefoot. Right in the arch. It was a good hour before I calmed down enough and got the fuzzy feeling out of my head. We're 85% sure it was dead before hand (if not, why would it have just been hanging out by Isaac's foot while he cooked? Did he like bacon, too?) since Isaac had shoes on and I'm thinking it would have run away. But, still. Totally stepped on it. And then I screamed. Because. Ew...


(the kooks, always where i need to be: Man. I should do a post about how much I love this song. Because it's a LOT. Probably hedging into top 10 all time favorites category. If I were to track that sort of thing...)