I could not get to sleep, last night. I thought I was anxious about getting my cosplay together, but it turns out I was having a Clayton's asthma attack.
Clayton's(adj): The thing you have when you're not having a thing.
In my case, it's not realising I'm having an asthma attack until I look at my fingernails [instead of glance at them] and say, "Holy fuck, those are purple!"
I was probably one very bad night away from full-blown cyanosis. And for those of you who don't absorb medical terminology - that means turning blue. I've done that a couple of times and neither event was very fun. One resulted in a jab of adrenoline, which made me want to vacate both bowels and stomach at once. Fight or flight hard-wiring is a firkin party. The second one resulted in me getting my first Nebuliser.
I've had two runs on Max, now - my Nebuliser. I'm twitchy as hell and I'm starting to cough, which is a good sign for all that is sounds like a big angry dog crossed with the last act of Camille. It means that whatever mucous I have that's blocking progress is starting to loosen up.
It also means I'm going to sound like I'm dying for a majority of the day.
But it's okay. InterNutter is fine. For my personal definition of fine.
I'm twitchy as heck and I maybe got four hours' of sleep which is better than Mayhem, who got zero, the poor darling. He's staying home, alas. But once he gets a modicum, he can help do the things I'm too twitchy and tired to do.
I know I've been through worse, but right now, I can't recall what worse I've been through.