Blah, blah, blah

So, I was right to assume I would be going in the hospital. It turns out that I am sick, but not too sick. I called just in time. I am glad that I will get it over with in two weeks, so that I will be able to continue school online in the fall.

I got a PICC line in today, and that is always the scariest part of the whole stay. This last hospital stay in January, I went through a really bad experience with the PICC procedure. I didn't receive any kind of calming meds, so I was totally freaking out about it. I was so scared. I didn't get any pain medicine, so had to go through the needle sticks and pokes with nothing. I ended up with a total of seventeen holes from where they tried to thread a catheter type line in my vein.

This time, I specifically asked for some medicine, and was elated when I remember waking up this afternoon with the procedure already done. I have since told my doctor to write down exactly what he gave me because I slept through everything!

I am a little woozy still from the meds I got this morning, so I am going to have to lay down, otherwise I will take a header off the bed. That wouldn't be good. Can't wait to feel better though... <3

I must wish on a star that never shines...

So, it's been one month and eight days since I was at the doctor last. One month and eight days to start feeling bad again. Ugh. Why is CF so hard?

I hate this.
I hate the disease, I hate that there isn't a cure, I hate how I never know whether I will be feeling good or bad when I wake up in the morning. I hate how I can't go ten minutes without coughing. I hate how I feel like I can't breathe in enough air. I hate it. I hate it with every part of my being.

I just wished I was normal. I wished I could breathe. I wished I wasn't sick. I wish for a lot of things. I guess it's time to call the doctor and tell him to set me up an appointment. I guess it's time to pack my things for yet another hospital stay. I guess I need to prepare for the many needle sticks and pokes I will have to endure for the next two weeks. I guess I need to love up on my puppy as much as I can since I won't be able to see her for two weeks straight. I guess I need mentally memorize the feel of my own bed, the taste of homemade food, and the smell of home.

I get tired of this.

I'm just tired....

Doing pretty good!

Wow, I have just been thinking about how my doctor's appointment went... I thought for sure I was going to go in, but then I get there and I feel great! Why does this happen, I wondered? When I got through with my PFTs, I thought I did okay, but how do you really know if you do good until you get the results?

Some days that I thought I felt great and healthy (so to speak) I ended up in the hospital, while other days I know I felt like poo-poo (and probably looked like it too) that the doc couldn't stop talking about how much improved I was. It is always an unpredictable adventure when I go to the doctor. The only time I for sure knew I was going in the hospital was when I asked to go to the doctor. That is kind of what I want to talk about today...