You Don't Know What You've Got, Till It's Gone

There are a lot of things to which you could apply that thought. Batteries when the power goes out, toilet paper after your morning coffee, ice cream that you didn't know you're husband finished. I said goodbye to a lot of things when we left Chicago and moved to Mexico, both tangible and not. I knew it'd be hard leaving my friends and family, but I never imagined how much I'd miss Thai food. I've gained a few things in return (mostly intangible) but I still look forward to someday having those former things back in my life.

However, the things I left behind are not the reason for this post. What I'm missing right now is the ability to breathe. Good ol' oxygen, in and out of the lungs. I'm clearly breathing since I'm able to type on my computer, but it's a struggle.

I've come up with a variety of explanations: my asthma is acting up, the air quality has worsened between increased fires and still no rain, or stress is finally taking it's toll. I've done some research online and difficulty breathing worsens at night, which I found out for myself a few days ago. We debated going to the hospital but I was able to calm myself down enough to fall asleep. The trouble with not being able to breathe is you start to panic and then it gets worse. Just writing about it is making it worse.

I haven't exercised for a couple days, figuring the least I move around the better. We have tracked down a doctor and Ibis just called to let me know I have an appointment later this afternoon. I'm not sure what all he can do besides give me medicine to open my lungs, but I'll be glad to find out if it's anything more serious.

For now I'll stick to shallow breaths and try not to get excited.