It may not surprise you to learn that I have one hell of a temper.
A long time ago in high school, I ripped a door off its hinges.
I’ve beaten the crap out of a wall. (which is why the pinky on my right hand doesn’t work right)
Through classes and counseling, I’ve managed to get it under control for the most part. Sometimes, though, it comes out. Like last night.
Because of the snow and ice, I let one of the oldest dogs out the front door so he wouldn’t have to deal with the ramp. Other things were going on so I was a little rushed. Anyway, I went to let him in. He wasn’t there. I called. No where. He’s done this before. I thought that with the cold, he’d not be out long. Ha.
When I finally found him, he saw the light and just kept on walking. Away from me.
It was cold, around 22 or so. I was mad. I was walking. I was in pain. And he walked away from me. I blew a gasket.
By the time I got him in, I was seeing red. And I was wheezing like a sick bagpipe. I could barely walk, barely breathe, barely see, and that SOB is still being a shit.
Lorna woke up and took care of everything, including keeping the dog out of my way, lest I kill him. She got me my woofer (inhaler) and stood over me until I was breathing better. I lost my voice though.
She tucked me into bed but because of the coughing, she told me to not bother with my CPAP mask. She woke me up later to tell me to put it on. She hates it when she hears me stop breathing. She holds her breath too and hasn’t a clue how I do it. I don’t either; I’m asleep.
At any rate, the headache is back, my voice is back, I’m coughing something awful, and all the dogs (especially That One) are walking carefully around me. Well, not Sam, bless his heart. He hasn’t a clue.
Oh, and if I am ever mad enough to cry, get out of the way. Stuff is going to start flying.