Too many words. There are just too many words, more than I can manage right now, required to tell the story – stories – of the Magical MommyBlogger Mystery Tour, Kentucky Edition. It was wonderful, amazing, fascinating – all those good things that you love (or hate) to read about.

But I can’t tell those stories right now, because I’m a little bit distracted, sitting in my office at school, waiting for my husband to come and pick me up and take me to the hospital to investigate some mysterious chest pain, having had a long and disturbing telephone call with an ER resident about my symptoms. I’m – what’s the term? – wigging out, just a little bit.

All that I can do is wait, and nervously wring my hands. I’m anxious. Is it bizarre that I’m blogging right now, as I wait to be ferried to the hospital? I can’t think what else to do.

Ironic, or perfectly fitting, that, after a weekend of analyzing mommyblogging and spinning fascinating theories about what is mommyblogging and why mommyblogging and what is writerly about mommyblogging, this mommyblogger is reduced to blithering and spewing stream-of-consciousness babble?

I’m anxious. I hate doctors. I’m a worrier. I’ve barely seen my baby since I returned home. I’m worried, and I don’t want to go to the hospital, I want to go home to my baby.

I need you to tell me this: that I’ll be fine. That it’s fine for me worry. That I’m not crazy for writing through this immediate, impossible anxiety on a blog. That it’s all just fine.

It’s all fine, it will all be fine.

He’ll be here soon; I need to pack up and go.

(breathe deeply, and hit publish…)


UPDATE: I have not, it seems, had a heart attack. I had a lot of the same symptoms, but they did all variety of unpleasant test – blood, heart traces, ECG – and there was no discernible damage to my heart (other, I suppose, than that wrought by my anxiety) and so no evidence of an attack. They don’t know what happened; I’m going to the doctor again this afternoon. But at least the immediate worries have been allayed.

Thank you so, so, so much for your concern and your support, and your understanding. Friends, all of you.