We attended a 50th birthday party of one of hubby’s friend last night. It was held in a beautiful 100-year-old home just a few blocks away and it was nice to finally put faces to the names of some of my hubby’s acquaintances and friends. Good food, good company, and interesting conversations, one that has me thinking things over this morning.
Anyway, less than an hour into the party, someone let the dogs out to join the festivities and ten minutes later, my allergies kicked in. By an hour mark, I was wheezing and hoping someone would bring the cake out so we could sing happy birthday and I could leave. They did but I didn’t get out until another twenty minutes later. This time, I didn’t even wait for hubby to say his goodbyes. I simply stepped outside because while I did have my asthma inhaler with me, I didn’t have an Epi-pen or a Benadryl.
The last time I experienced a near-anaphylactic reaction was over four years ago and that was scary. I didn’t go to the Emergency Room because I didn’t realize what it was. I just thought I was having a nasty asthma attack and so I used my inhaler a lot. Forget that asthma inhalers have ephedrine and basically make your heart race, but I should have known it was an intense allergic reaction when my eyes swelled shut and my lips and tongue swelled up, too.
That’s when the doctor gave me a prescription for an Epi-pen, one we renew every year.
But I don’t bring those Epi-pens with me, although after last night, I really should—or at least, even Benadyryl (as long as I’m not driving because it knocks me out).
So… lesson learned.
But there was one exchange that bothered me last night and I’m trying not to let it bother me this morning. One of the women was surprised to learn that hubby had gotten married. She even said this when we were getting ready to leave. She said she never would have thought he would find anyone because, and this I’m interpreting her words, he’s simple-minded. It wasn’t the first time she alluded to it.
The first time we met as our kids played together (her 7-year-old teaching my 9-year-old son a card game called This is War), she said that when her hubby told her there’d be two other boys at the party for their son to play with, her automatic thought was, oh, the other kid must be X, right? And she laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
This morning, I woke up with a much clearer head and the memory of her words sting even more. Maybe X is simple-minded in her and her husband’s (and maybe even his fellow friends’) eyes… but why tell this to X’s wife more than once?
So anyway… deep breath.
I should have left the party sooner. It would have saved me from the misery of my allergies last night and more. I’m actually glad now that he didn’t return to the party to rejoin his “friends” which had been his original plan before he decided to stay home because I was in no position to keep an eye on Lil Dude after I took my allergy medication.
I have to assume she didn’t mean anything by it. At the very least, I need to let these types of conversations go and not bother me. People will think whatever they want to think.
Or maybe I should just put her in my next book.