When Rey and I venture more than two minutes from a local hospital, I feel the compulsion to brief him on the “state of my health.” I do this so that in the event I unexpectedly lose consciousness, he can serve as my liaison with the hospital, and hopefully facilitate a speedy and accurate diagnosis. Yesterday, when we set out for our daily hike, it was no different.
As we approached the mouth of the trail, I customarily rattled off my recent problems with consistent headaches and unforgiving chest pain. I continued on about random, painful bruising, then finished up with a spelling of my new birth control prescription and a quick note on how the medication could possibly be causing blood clotting.
I paused to catch my breath, and what did my loving boyfriend look at me and say?
“Man, I hope I’m around when you actually do kick the bucket.”
