2 April 2011

72 hours.

72 hours...

Thats now long I've been at home.

3 days. Or 72 hours.

And already I am exhausted. I've done nothing major. I went into town thursday yes, but only to pick up a mothers day card, and a birthday card. Not to do anything majorly exciting and energetic. And I went to the pub. But thats all, I wasnt clubbing, I didnt dance. I just sat, and chatted and giggled.

I'm 20 years old. I should be able to handle that, yeah?

But my body has other ideas.

I'm wheezing. My lungs are bubbling and crackling when I breath. Last night I had a bleed. Not a massive one, but still not ideal. When I laugh, I end up having a coughing fit. When I cough it hurts my chest. My sinuses are playing up too, so I've had a constant headache, and every cough hurts my head too.

My joints are playing up. Particularly my fingers. They are temporarily okay right now, because I'm dosed up on diclofenac, but when I'm not drugged up on painkillers, I cant type, or text properly, or even hold and manage a fork properly, without it hurting.

And this is 3 days out of the hospital. This is when I should be feeling my best!

I'm trying desperately to convince my parents I'm okay. I hate them fussing and worrying. Mum knows something isnt right, she just doesnt realise quite how 'not right' things are. I dont want to ring the hospital yet. I want to be at home, I want long enough to actually enjoy being home.

Today, CF wins. Because I dont have the energy to fight. Maybe tomorrow will be better, maybe tomorrow I'll win. Maybe it will be worse. Who knows.

This is my life right now. And sometimes, it sucks tbh.


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