The other reason I wanted to run away to the Mountains of West Virginia was so I could be a parent this summer.
Every summer, where we live, the temperature gets past 100 degrees. The heat index gets upwards of 110. And the air quality index goes red. Those with respiratory problems should stay inside.
That would be me.
So, every summer, i am sidelined by summer. I can't go out, play with the kids, go to the pool NOTHING. I cannot frickin BREATHE. So, I take my meds, go to urgent care, and get really fucking angry. All the while I spend a small fortune for my kids to go to camps because I can't do anything with them, or even watch them because I am too busy struggling for breath.
Well, enough of that madness.
I took that small fortune and reserved a house for a month in West Virginia. High summer temp: 85. And when I asked about air quality warnings, the real estate agent had no idea what I was talking about. Yay. Book it.
So here we are. Playing tennis. Going on walks. Exploring. I have even ridden a horse a couple of times for crying out loud. Yes, I still take my allergy drugs. I have COPD, not brain damage.
The kids are happy. I am breathing, and the only thing wrong is I miss my husband, who has to stay home and work so we can pay for this little experiment.
But I think it worked. I have not used my nebulizer in over a month. And I've done more in one summer than I have since I left Chicago.
And my kids got to hang out with me, not some useless, texting teenager who is supposed to entertain them but really just being a camp counselor to meet chicks and get a paycheck. The kids just told me this was the best summer ever so far. And I agree.
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