Waking up in the middle of an asthma attack is not terribly fun. I woke up gasping and wheezing at six o’clock in the morning and was unable to get back to sleep in a horizontal position. I ended up going downstairs and trying to sleep sitting up on the couch while waiting for the doctor’s office to open.

When I finally got through, though, the instructions were to go to the ER. I thought that might possibly be overkill, as I wasn’t turning blue yet–being oxygen-deprived is awfully inconvenient, but so is rounding up the kids, piling into the car, and having Matthew take me to the hospital for something that just needs an inhaler and a bit of time. Instead, I dug up a prescription for Albuterol that I had gotten this past November and Matthew ran out to CVS to get it filled.

So now I can breathe again. Breathing is very, very nice.