Dealing with the pain...

If you'll recall, a few weeks ago my drunken neighbor plowed into the rear of my car and left me with two lovely bumper holes. While our insurance companies worked out the details, I worked through my pain by making light of the situation. The bumper holes became flower vases, umbrella stands, displays for baby doll arms & legs (hey... don't judge) and on Memorial Day, I put flags in them. It was my way of dealing with the pain of my vehicle being torn to shreds. I mean, I would watch folks in my rear view mirror as they'd approach my vehicle from behind. First they'd cruise in to gawk at the damage. Then they'd make some comment to their passenger. There'd be a short exchange and a few snickers. And then every single time, they'd slowly back off, maintaining ample distance between their vehicle and my hazard on wheels. It as if the two holes on my bumper were flashing "HORRIBLE DRIVER HORRIBLE DRIVER HORRIBLE DRIVER".

But my world returned to rainbows & sunshine the Monday before last. After driving around my holey car for a week, and then another two driving the PT Loser, the collision shop called to say that my vehicle was finally ready! I was happy once again. I lovingly stroked my car and mouthed, 'you complete me'.

For three days we went everywhere together. My car took me to work and then waited in the parking lot all day until I got off. He's very devoted. We went shopping together, to dinner, and to the movies. We were gearing up for big weekend plans so we stopped by the bank Friday afternoon. He said he'd wait for me while I went inside. I was in the bank for all of five minutes when I was approached and questioned if I owned a silver Toyota with Florida tags. Jokingly, I replied, "Why? Did someone hit me?" Someone had! Someone had friggin' backed into my car! My car had been fixed for THREE whole days!


Well something in me snapped. I actually started crying. Seriously. The guy who hit me, I'm sure, was way freaked out by my hysterics. We exchanged all of our info, and as I drove away, my heart started hurting. Seriously. My heart seriously started to hurt! I called my brother to tell him what had happened and, of course, being a typical brother... his ass laughed. Three days, folks! THREE DAYS!

I couldn't stop crying & my heart pain continued. But with all of this going on, I had design team work for My Creative Scrapbook that I had to complete. Time was running out! So on top of the whole car situation, I had that obligation. I was stressing big time! My heart was killing me!

So I did what any emotionally distraught gal with chest pains would do. I consulted WebMD. Thanks to WebMD's Symptoms Checker, I determined that I was having a heart attack. So I called my brother again. Did I mention that Jeffie's a paramedic? After hearing my symptoms and talking with me for a bit he determined that I was actually having a panic attack and not a heart attack, as I (and WebMD) believed. Well thank goodness that he's the sane one in our family. Otherwise, I'd be at the hospital hooked up to all sorts of machinery with leads, trip wires, bolts attached to my temples and Dr. Frankenstein. What?

A panic attack? Seriously. Those are real? I've never had one before and I'll be the first to admit that I've thought 'bullshit' when I've heard others talk about them. But... wow... they're real all right. It helped me to put things into perspective when Jeff explained how my body reacted to hearing the news about my car. Add the new collision to the one from THREE DAYS ago to the stress of the design team work and the fact that I'd just turned my world upside down by getting divorced, selling my home, quitting my job, moving to Ohio, finding new employment, etc., etc., etc. Basically, it was the final straw for my poor body.

So I dealt with the pain. I occupied my mind elsewhere. I spent a great weekend with my family and I completed my design team work on time!




Isn't My Creative Scrapbook's Creative Kit for July adorable?! It's so freakin' cute it makes my heart hurt. My heart! Oh no! Better consult WebMD!