Apparently I am a delicate flower who cannot hear the truth, because either no one tells me shit or they doll it up in these weird vague terms.

I have asthma. I do not know when I was diagnosed with asthma. No one ever told me. I just know that when I was about five months pregnant I couldn't breathe and couldn't get a doctor's appointment, so my OB/GYN sent me to the ER where the doctor said "Hey, how long have you had asthma anyway?" and I said "Fucked if I know, dude." So that was about seven years ago. I have been to the doctor a few times since for inhaler refills and stronger stuff when I get a cold and it wears me down, so I am no stranger to the term.

I went to the doctor today because I have had a lingering cough. I had a nasty cold two weeks ago that moved down to my chest and stuck around long enough to give me a wicked fever (just in time for our annual Baltimore getaway. How pathetic did I look shuffling around Inner Harbor? Very pathetic. You know Mama Walnuts from The Sopranos? Just like that) and has left me with a cough that's stuck around for days.

The doctor beamed at me and said "You have reactive airway disease!"

That would be asthma, Dr. Brainiac.

But it is not just any old asthma! It is cough-reactive, which basically means I am not a wheezer, I am a hacker. Google also tells me it is mostly something kids get, which only means that everyone who thinks I am childish is totally right.

Especially since I have spent the last couple of hours emailing KC things like "MY INNER CHILD SPITS MUCUS ON YOU!" Considering his idea of a romantic proposal is asking if we can celebrate "Steak and Blow-Job Tuesday" I think it's no more than he deserves. For god's sake, I never get a "Chinese Food and Oral Sex Friday". He hates Chinese food!