Breathing Deeply: My Life With Cystic Fibrosis

We cannot waste time. We can only waste ourselves.








I don't know what happened. I had been doing so well the last few days, and then WHAMMO! I was only awake for about 4 hours total today. I went to bed last night not feeling particularly great, but by the time I woke up for my 6 a.m. "feeding" (aka my IV meds) I was so completely out of whack. I told Brad that I wasn't feeling well enough to be able to make it through church, and then I climbed back into bed. I don't even remember hearing him leave.

For the remainder of the day I just slept. It wasn't even a good, restful sleep either. It was the kind of sleep that happens when there is obviously something wrong in your body, and all it can do is just pass out until things re-equilibrate. I had crazy dreams while I slept, too. Dreams about having to pack up and move; dreams about trying to lift the piano. I think the worst dream was the result of having watched "The Recruit" before going to bed. Not at all a pleasant thing.

I think the most frustrating part was that I had planned to get things done around the house this afternoon. I wanted to clean the place up a bit and get a few more things unpacked before my mom comes over tomorrow. That's not going to happen. At least Brad took care of cleaning up the kitchen for me. That was cool.

I'm so ready to be off the antibiotics. I'm tired of having this nasty taste in my mouth from them. I'm tired of being tied to their schedule, and most of all, I'm ready to have this needle and its lovely dressing removed. I changed it all yesterday, but even so, it's at the point now where there's precious little I can do to make it comfortable.