It all started in December of 2020 when I decided to clean the porch and get rid of the shedding poinsettias. I picked up two huge ones and as I stepped down I missed the second step due to my mask readjusting my glasses. I went up in the air and landed with all my might on my left side and hip. Doctor was reading the paper and never saw nor heard a thing. I didn’t drop the poinsettias but still have what feels like broken ribs in my back which is quite uncomfortable.

In March of 2021 the kids and I took an impromptu trip to Panama City Beach which made me wonder why we ever go in late July, except for all of us getting wind burnt. Emily’s nose and my nose were the brightest red I’ve ever seen, including Rudolph’s, and her lips blew up like a hot air balloon. Hers went away, and eight months later I still have a red nose which is quite embarrassing.

In July of 2021 we went on our annual beach vacation and spent the night in New Orleans to break up the trip. Doctor wasn’t able to join but stayed with me that night. Around midnight I woke him up with indigestion and he gave me a Pepcid and went back to sleep. The indigestion turned into nausea, cold sweats, and chest pain that went on for about three hours when he found me sitting on the bathroom floor. Since I had every symptom that points to a heart attack he said he was bringing me to the ER. I told him it was just indigestion and I refused to go until he threatened me with an ambulance. By the time I got there I was feeling better then Doctor tripped over the curb and didn’t stop falling until he practically ran into the ER door. After tests and bloodwork and x-rays I was diagnosed with just indigestion. “I know,” I said. We got back to the hotel at 6:30 and I hopped in the car with Jacques and took off for the beach with an esophagus I figured would go up in flames any second.

In September of 2021 we took a trip to Durango, Colorado, for Doctor’s daughter’s delayed wedding reception. As the plane began descending around midnight I noticed Doctor was humped over staring at the floor with a low oxygen level reading on his fancy watch, cold sweats, and nausea. He mumbled to the flight attendant, “I’m not doing well,” so I decided it was time for some CPR and fanned him with my Bon Appetit magazine. The flight attendant asked everyone to stay seated and alerted the cockpit and 911. The pilot slammed on the brakes with a huge thump in the middle of the tarmac where an ambulance and fire truck were waiting. The medics rushed onto the plane, asked a few questions, then strapped him to a gurney and ran with him through the airport and into an ambulance. I got to ride in the front seat and since Doctor was feeling better I asked if they’d put the siren on to make it more dramatic. After four hours he was diagnosed with AMS, Acute Mountain Sickness due to the high altitude. We got to the hotel at 4:30 that morning. I have ABOTDS which means Acute Backing Out The Driveway Sickness.

In early October of 2021 we flew to Charlotte, rented a car, and drove to Savannah for three days. On the last night I woke up at 5 o’clock that morning with indigestion, again. I woke up Doctor and he gave me a Pepcid and went back to sleep. Several hours later he woke up to the sounds of someone being murdered in the bathroom, and it was me, with out-of-control-vomiting, sweating, shaking, crying, and unable to keep a quarter of a teaspoon of water down. I’m sure I was heard in the lobby. I then had to crawl in the backseat of the car and drive four hours to his sister’s house with those seatbelts stabbing my back and a bottle of phenergan in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. Upon my arrival everyone said in unison, “You’re so pale.” Diagnosis: Food Poisoning

On the 24th of October, 2021 I took a bath, stepped out onto a marble floor, slipped, and hit the ledge of the tub with my left eyebrow, right to you. I still have a green, purple, yellow, and black eye.

On the 30th of October, 2021 Doctor was watering plants and tripped over his shoestring and came crashing down on his knee onto a brick. The X-ray showed fluid and he’s making lots of faces. TO BE CONTINUED

PHYLLIS BELANGER MATA was born at the old Dauterive Hospital and grew up on Wayne Street. She is a 1974 graduate of Mt. Carmel Academy and is a chili dog “without the wiener” aficionado.