This might be funny if it happened to someone else.

This sounds like pure fiction, the story I'm about to tell. They say bad things happen in threes, so I hope the trilogy is complete.

A week ago Friday, in the middle of the night, Hank woke up barely able to breathe. All of us had been having exaggerated allergy symptoms, and it was starting to sound like a tuberculosis ward in my house. I was just going to make appointments at the pediatrician's office and then take myself in to the doctor at a later date, but Hank sounded awful! He was wheezing, and it sounded like his throat was closing up. So Ro sat with him in the bathroom with the hot shower running, we gave him some cough medicine and after a couple of hours he started breathing normally again and went back to sleep.

An hour and a half later, I loaded everyone into the car and headed off to Complete Urgent Care, which is my absolute favorite place to see a doctor on short notice. If you live in NW San Antonio and want to know more about my experiences there, please let me know. I'll take the time to tell you. Anyhow, $250 later (co-pays for office visits and medication all around) we were all diagnosed with bronchitis.

No problem, I thought. Hank was on an inhaler, but mostly we all just had to take cough meds and antibiotics and relax. When I got checked out, my blood pressure and heart rate were really high. Over the weekend, they both just got worse. I felt like I was smoking crack nonstop, and if you've ever done that, while it can be fun, it can also be highly uncomfortable.

So Monday rolls around, and we head back to our favorite emergency clinic. I got 2 EKGs and my heart rate was holding steady at 137 with my blood pressure around 160/110. Seriously, I quit my job. I shouldn't be having stress or anxiety.

But I was diagnosed with extreme anxiety and sent home with Xanax (which is kind of cool, I admit. I mean, how many ER clinics do THAT?) and told to relax. I'd already scheduled a follow-up with my doctor the next day to make sure my heart was ok. Lots of heart disease in my family, and I worry about it.

The next day, my new doc (whom I LOVE! Dr. Mark Smith, if you're looking for a GP) was seriously concerned. He put me on a beta blocker and made an appointment for me to see a cardiologist. Mind you, this is Tuesday and I couldn't see the cardiologist until the following Monday (which ended up being yesterday). He told me to come back the next morning for labs and a checkup to see how the beta blocker was working.

The beta blocker brought my heart rate down but not my bp. And the next morning I almost passed out in his office because I couldn't breathe. He says that's it, go to the ER. Seriously? I have to babies with me and no help. He said if I didn't he was worried about what would happen. So I called the hubs and off we went to Methodist. Great ER. They took me in right away and put me on monitors and found out I have NOT a heart problem but pleurisy, which is an infection in my lungs. I'd only heard of it peripherally because one of my friends had it after having pneumonia.

Luckily, my parents came to the rescue. Wednesday evening, I was released from the ER  and sent home to rest. By Friday, I was in so much pain I could hardly stand it. That, apparently, is common with pleurisy. And they told me to take Advil. Not working. So to distract myself, I decided to go to the store to replace all the Advil I'd taken. And to get some ice cream. Ice cream is essential when you're sick. Plus, I figured the trip would distract me.

I am so not joking here, but right around the corner from my house, I hit a Nissan Xterra. She started to move forward, and when I looked down after I started rolling (a pen rolled under my foot), she slammed on the brakes and I hit her.

Poor Bob. He is my car and my friend. I am not functioning well without him.

As you can see, Bob took a beating. Yes, I name my cars. What's it to you? My friend Emma says I have an unhealthy emotional attachment to my car. She's so right. I have had with every single car I've ever owned. I cry when I trade them in! I feel like I'm abandoning them. Anyway, that's another issue for another time.

Again, my husband races to rescue. I can't decide whether I've done him a favor getting him out of a day and a half of inservice at his school or if it's a bad reflection on him, but whatever the case, I was thankful he took care of me last week.

I was shocked when AllState told me that not only would a rental car be covered the entire time Bob was being fixed but our deductible was only $100. I had to go the weekend without a car because Enterprise was closed, but aside from that, everything has gone smoothly. Bob is already being worked on. They'll give me a time estimate Wednesday or Thursday. I get the rental, which looks like a lunchbox on wheels, for as long as it takes, and I don't have to pay an extra penny for it. Not only that, but the rental is big enough for both car seats, the double stroller and Mitchell and me.

I'm calling him Junior because he kind of looks like Bob's tiny child.

Someone is looking out for me. Just hoping this week goes better than last!

All this free time on my hands.

My two youngest children are still small. My older one is out for summer vacation. My husband is already back at work. This is probably the worst time to evaluate how much work stay-at-home moms have to do, but so far, I'm bored!

Yesterday morning, I took time out to clean the house. It took me a couple of hours, but I managed to deep clean the living room and kitchen and get caught up on the dishes and laundry. I took Mitch to a movie (I wasn't that impressed with this Planet of the Apes movie, by the way. I was expecting a lot more). I caught up on my freelance work. I started putting together the final report for the class I'm taking this summer.

This morning, I'm out of things to do. I'm trying to pace myself, but wow. I've gotten the boys out of bed, fed them, played with them, read to them. Now they're totally into watching Thomas and Friends, and I'm twitching. Maybe I should take up sewing? Knitting? Ice sculpting?

I'll get used to this and adapt. I know I will. It's just... I've never really not had a job. Ever. It's new territory. The closest I came was my senior year in college where my only job was editing a section of my college newspaper and doing some freelance work. I think that year, I did more than 18 hours each semester and we were planning a wedding, though, so I had plenty to do. Plus, we were potty training Mitchell that year, so there was lots of work to do at home. Also, we were planning a move to San Antonio, which meant looking for jobs and doing lots of packing.

There are no projects on my horizon. I need to learn to slow down and enjoy just being here with my kids. Anyone have any tips?

What's wrong with me...

I've gotten questions from a lot of people lately about where I've been, either in the real world or the virtual one. Unfortunately, it's not an exciting answer. I haven't joined the CIA or anything.

I have a disorder called Gastroparesis. I was diagnosed roughly two months ago, and without going into detail, it means that my stomach has stopped working. The actual stomach organ itself has ceased to process what I put into my body. This puts outrageous limits on what I can eat and what will actually give me nutrients if I put it into my body.

I am sick a lot of the time. I'm on some heavy-duty nausea meds that make me drowsy, and it's hard for me to get around. I have no energy and no motivation. I've lost 40 pounds in the last two months, most of which has come off in the last three weeks.

After a stay in the hospital last weekend, I went back to see my doctor, who gave me some new options. I'm on the last kind of medication they can give me. If this doesn't work, we go the surgical route, which means installing an implant into my torso that connects to the part of my brain that tells my stomach what to do. It will, literally, send signals to my brain to tell my stomach to start working properly again. I'm hoping this medicine works. I managed to get to work this morning without any sickness, and that hasn't happened in a while.

This is my last week of work. One of the reasons I'm leaving my job is that I've been so sick lately. I'm thankful that I have a skill that I can use to work from my home. If I didn't, we'd really have a mess on our hands.

So, if I'm not around, it's not simply because I've gone all antisocial. It's because of this. I've been keeping it under wraps for a while because I don't want anyone (except for those who should, like my parents and husband) worrying about me. I'll be fine. Even if I have to have surgery, I'll be ok.