My blog is a place where I feel I can be honest. Not in a baring my soul kind of way. Because, let's face it, my parents might read this. My sisters read this. (Or maybe they don't anymore since I started a separate blog about the one they really care about - my kid.) My in-laws, friends, FB friends, etc. read this. So, no, I don't get into the nitty gritty like I would if say, this were an incognito blog and you were a bunch of strangers that I'd never ever have to face. (Ironic but you know it's so true!!) I do sometimes get carried away and probably reveal too much, though.
Anywho... I, obviously, do not want to have the same health issues as my mom. She has a ton. To name a few: diabetes, degenerative disc disease, rheumatoid arthritis, emphysema, chronic bronchitis. That doesn't even begin to cover her various mental health issues. (No, I don't feel bad saying any of this, btw. She is very open about her medical issues.)
Funnily enough, anytime I get anything that is remotely like any of her issues, I immediately start worrying. Crap. I have bronchitis. Is it chronic? Do I have emphysema? Am I going to get diabetes and arthritis, too? What if I get the degenerative disc disease? I don't want to deal with that much pain. You get the idea. Then, I call or text my sister. Today, it went like this:
Me: F*$%. I feel like I'm turning into Mom. I have another cough that's prob bronchitis. :(
Her: Do u still smoke?
Me: Just quit... Again. Lol. I wasn't smoking, then I started again around Thanksgiving. Quit last weekend.
Her: Well that should help...
I love how she points out that I've been smoking. And I have. I do quit. For months at a time. With no problem. But then something will happen and I'll get to smoking again. Not during the day, when Jack is awake and running around, but at night, outside. In specially designated "smoking clothes" that I don't wear around Jack. Ridic, right?!?! I shouldn't smoke at all! (Confession? I actually started smoking earlier than Thanksgiving but I feel like it started getting out of control around then. Like going from 3-5 per night to 10 or so per night. Which is soooooo bad for me.)
But what I really wanted was reassurance that I'm not my mother. I don't want to be my father, either, for that matter. Or anyone else. Just myself. I think that's a fairly common thing amongst people my age. Especially once we have kids. Like, suddenly, we feel we're morphing into our parents. Even if we love our parents and think they were the best people in the world, do we really want to be carbon copies? Do we want to be exactly like them? And does anyone in their mid-thirties still have that idealized picture of their parents that makes them want be like that? Or have we all dealt with the fact that Mom and Dad are humans. They have their faults, they make mistakes, and they did what they thought was best. So, no, we don't want to make the same mistakes.
But back to me - I don't want to be my mother, yet I have this damn cough that I get more frequently as I get older and I keep going back to the damn smoking. So, this is me. Stating for the world (or all 12 of you) that I'm done smoking. If I screw up, I'll post it. I'll cop to it. It won't be the hardest thing in my life because I'm not around smoking much. But it won't be easy when I am around it, either.
And now, I'll be back at the doctor tomorrow. For this cough that is by turns dry and annoying or phlegmy and painful. My inhaler hasn't done much to ease the chest pain for more than 30 minutes or so. And I'm damn tired of getting this crap. But at least it's not back pain or panic attacks, right? And a cough definitely does not make me my mother.
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