Don't Read While Eating

Just waiting to watch the leafs kick ass! (Ya, I know what you're saying, I could be waiting awhile. Very funny.) I thought I'd fill you in on how things are going. The stomach issue seems to be a lot better. They ran many tests and didn't see too much. They did see thickening of the intestines though. I personally think it's my CF getting worse in my digestive system. I've never had it too bad when it came to my stomach/pancreas luckily. I didn't need to take digestive enzymes, even though most CFers do and I've never really had issues with pain, diarrhea or gaining weight. I've now been taking enzymes at most meals and it seems to help. The pain is gone and I'm able to continue doing my PD dialysis. I had to stop for a couple weeks and switch to hemodialysis because they didn't know what was causing all the problems and they wanted to clean me out still. I eat a lot but I'm not gaining weight. I read on the internet that those with CF that don't require digestive enzymes are more prone to pancreatitis so that's what it could have been. I'm still going to have a colonoscopy to rule other things out and I want them to do a physical check on my pancreas just to make sure it's not something else, although I don't think it is. PD dialysis is going quite well. It's generally easy and not that intrusive in daily life. I just worry that it's not cleaning me out the same way hemo did because I felt the best when I was on that. I'm going to be have a PET test soon to measure the permeability of my peritoneal lining. That will tell us how well it's working. I've been really tired the last couple days and I was actually starting to feel more energy prior to this so who knows. I have a funny story which I'll share because, well, you gotta laugh at things sometimes. Jeff and I went to the Keg for dinner because tomorrow I can't eat anything solid so I wanted to fill myself up. Keep in mind that a few weeks prior I was suffering with vomiting relentlessly and I constantly had to scope out the washrooms wherever we went. Lately though, I've been fine. No nausea, no vomiting so I didn't really think about it and we were seated far from the washrooms. Midway through the appetizer I had to vomit. I had to make it to bathroom FAST! I grabbed the cloth napkin, covered my mouth and went for it. I barely made it but all seemed to be well after I...you know. I came back and seemed good to go so I dug right into my steak dinner. I felt pretty good but suddenly I didn't feel so good again. Normally after I puke once I'm good so I just figured it was because I wasn't that hungry. Suddenly I knew things were not good. I knew I wouldn't make it if I ran to the bathroom so I tried to use mental powers to calm my stomach (hahaha) but that didn't work so well. Just as the server was coming over to help us I barfed all over the place, spewing vomit all over the wall and the picture. It was so gross and embarrassing. The poor server. I'm sure he was thinking that he doesn't get paid enough for this. We tipped him generously lol. Jeff had to point to the top of his eye to tell me I had lettuce there lol. It was horrifyingly embarrassing but what can you do but laugh right? This is not the first time this had happened either, that's the worst part. Anyways, I appreciate those of you that read my posts and your comments. Love you all :)

PD in the PM

So I've started the process of peritoneal dialysis. I had initially wanted hemodialysis but my veins were too small to insert the fistula, although, I'm quite happy I had to go this route because I think it's much better. After my last post I had a couple hospital admissions. My creatinine was upwards of 600 something, I was drastically anemic (hemoglobin 59 at one point) and I required two different blood transfusions. They inserted my PD catheter quickly once I was a little more stable and started the dialysis as an emergency start, barely waiting a week for it to heal. Afterwards, I started the month long process of daily dialysis treatments at the hospital with one of those weeks being a training week so I could do it at home. I'm now officially home and it seems to be ok but now I'm dealing with a stomach issue that causes pain intermittently and I can't really eat. I'm going to get a scope and biopsy on Wednesday. They checked for a peritoneal infection and gall stones and it doesn't seem to be any of these things. It's really bothering me. I just want them to figure it out.

Kidney Failure and other things

Ok so time has passed and things have changed. I'm still struggling with kidney failure. My creatinine is now over 400 and the Dr. said I need to start the process of dialysis and eventually kidney transplant, so I see the vascular surgeon on August 12th. I'm tired a lot but I'll also have bouts of insomnia (like right now...it's 3:45 a.m.). I'm nauseous a lot and often vomit. My appetite is down quite a bit and I've lost weight. I also deal with lovely diarrhea (nice eh?). A year back, I switched my anti rejection medication from Cyclosporine to Prograf because they thought it was the Cyclosporine doing the damage. It obviously didn't make too much of a difference. My hair fell out quite a bit after starting it which sucks! I know it's 'just hair' but, as a woman, this can be tough. I've slowed it down by taking zinc and using a shampoo for cancer patients. I have nasal polyps which have completely blocked my sense of smell and therefore, my sense of taste. What else? I proceeded to go back to work a couple months back but now I'm not doing great again so I think I'll have to wait until I start the dialysis. I'm probably going on home hemodialysis. It suits my lifestyle since I don't leave the house much anyways and I work from home. But enough with the negative, I do have positive things too. My lung function is still amazing and no rejection or infection in the last 4 and half years (knock on wood). I'm still trying to golf when I can. I love it. I'm not great but I don't care, it's so nice to get out in the sunshine and quiet surroundings. I watch all the Blue Jays games and get right into it which always makes for a fun summer despite being inside a lot. Family, friends and especially hubby are all amazing and support me with endless love. I really notice my mental strength going into dialysis is somewhat stronger than I've been in the past. I guess that's what this whole journey does, unbeknownst to us sometimes. I always refute claims that I'm a hero and 'so strong'. I've always felt that it's just something I have to do and anyone else would do the same (which is true) but regardless, the process does inject a certain amount of fearlessness and bold face determination to fight! I really do look at it this time around as though I'm a warrior and my battle field is chronic illness. Bring it on motherf***ker!! If I lose, I lose with honour because I fought and I fought hard. My muscles are weak and yet I've never felt so tough. We all have our battles in life, physical, mental, societal, economical, etc. but perspective makes all the difference. I live by that. It can mean the difference between winning or losing, standing still or moving forward so always try to see the other side. Laugh as much as you can. Don't get me wrong, I know it can be tough, I deal with depression on an ongoing basis. That can be a battle in and of itself but I try to remember the word 'perspective' any time I sense the equivalent of a mental black hole coming on. Sometimes it helps and sometimes it doesn't but I know it's helped me many a times laugh at myself and the situation, even it's by no means funny. I find the humour anyway I can. I'm nervous about the process but I really just want to get the initial start-up over with and get into a routine. I hope it makes me feel better, which I'm sure it will. I'll try to update soon, Bye for now. My super duper awesome nephew Jack, My and my hubby Jeff on date night, Me supporting women's equality, Norman and my favourite picture of Jack.

Venting

It's been awhile. I'm three years post transplant and things are not too bad. My kidneys have been giving me issues, as well as some side effects from my drugs. I'm tired a lot and, for awhile, I was nauseous almost all the time. The nausea has subsided, thank god, but I'm still tired a lot. The doctors say I can't be feeling symptoms from my kidneys but I think my body's just sensitive to stuff going on. My kidneys are failing but they're not in end stage yet. They're in the third stage. My eGFR, the last time I knew, was 30, which is on the cusp of third stage (moderate) and fourth stage (severe) and that was back when my creatinine was lower. I'm going to see my kidney specialist tomorrow to talk about where I'm at. I have so many questions. Sometimes I feel like I'm being forgotten though. I've known about my creatinine being super high since my three year assessment in July. The Dr. seemed concerned and said I should talk to my kidney Dr. about it. Well I still have not had a conversation with her. She sent me for blood work almost weekly but I was unable to get any answers to my questions. I wanted to know if I should be worried, if I was heading to end stage. I wanted to know if there wasn't anything she could do and that's why she wasn't getting me in. My creatinine was high at 170. That was a year ago. Then in July, they told me it was up to 260! What does that mean? So I've had to wait until now to get answers and in the mean time I've been obsessing over it. I have a nurse practitioner instead of a GP because she's so much better than any GP I've ever had, and I've switched between a lot in the last few years. She's my middle woman. If I didn't have her, I'd feel like no one was paying much attention to me. She gets on people. The first year, everyone's looking at everything and then they basically say you're on your own with your GP. Well most GP don't have a clue what to do and our situations are complicated. I have so many specialists that they all assume the others are looking after it, or at least that's how it feels. I know I don't have anything to complain about really. It could be a lot worse. I'm feeling depressed though because I want to sleep all the time. And, because no one can tell me why this is, I feel like maybe it's in my head and I might just have to live with it. It can feel debilitating sometimes because my whole life seems to exist in my bed. I've decided that I can't just keep going like this and if it isn't anything physiological then maybe it's psychological and I need to just live through it. I'm going back to work. I'm not sure if anything will change so I'll just go on and push through it. Well enough negativity. I do have a lot going for me that's good in my life. Despite being tired I managed to get out and learn golf this summer. It's a great sport! Even if I'm feeling out of breath, I can still do it with the cart. I love it. My husband could not be a better partner to me. He's always there for me. Our relationship is always being tested and we still come out on top. He stood by me through my illness. And now, because of said illness, we cannot have biological kids, which we both really want. It's really hard because EVERYONE we know is pregnant or has kids. We feel alone sometimes. But, we remind ourselves that we have each other and that we'll make the best of it. There's always a positive to every situation, no matter how small. I really hope that all my fellow lung transplantees, who are not feeling well, get better soon. I'm thinking of you. I'll update tomorrow on what my Dr. said. Later, Carla Our new puppy, Norman. He's the best :)

Time - good or bad?

Time is a funny thing. It really is illusory in the sense of duration. The same amount of time can go by quickly one day and pain-stakingly slow another. Lately time has been flying by. My health has been as good as ever. Nothing, absolutely nothing to report in terms of transplant news. I'm glad for that. I've been training for a dragon boat team for the past couple months. Now some of you might be asking yourself what could you possibly be doing to "train" for dragon boat, you pick up the paddle, row and have fun, right? That's what I thought too but this team is hard core! We had eight weeks of dry land training which is code for "kick our asses" training. Now we are set to finally go in the boat. I'm excited. I'm actually getting muscles I never knew I had. I feel physically strong for the first time in a looooonnnnnggg time. I need to do this to prove to myself that I can and will accomplish whatever I want. For such a long time the words disease and sickness and now the word transplant have floated around my mind, forcing me to make assumptions about what I could achieve in life. Having limitations placed on me constantly was hard. Now I feel limitless. I love feeling my lungs breathe so hard that I feel like I want to puke with exertion and then quickly recover only to go again. The way my muscles burn with lactic acid and then pushing a few more reps out. I makes me feel so alive. I'm so connected to my body in a way that I've never been before. I truly appreciate it and all that it can do but I especially appreciate the lungs. Not an exercise session goes by that I don't think about the amazing job they are performing. Thank you donor again and agin, endlessly. So with all this going on in my life plus work and just the daily grind, time has just skyrocketed. But, when my sister said that her chemo was almost done, I said "wow that went by fast", she then replied "ya, maybe for you!?" I realized that I've been insensitive to her hardships, assuming that time was flying by for everyone but when you're in the throws of it, it can feel like time stops. I'm very proud of how she's been handling this though, not that I expected anything less. I can't wait for her to feel life fully again. She only has three weeks to go. She's a true warrior princess :) My mom too. She's our rock. She is the reason we are still alive because she is there guiding us through the storm, always strong. It's been very conflicting for me lately. I've felt kind of guilty for living my life so fully and, in a way, selfishly because others don't have that luxury at the moment. I just feel like I need this so bad right now. Even writing this I feel like no one wants to hear people gush about all that's perfect and how happy they feel. It's sometimes easier to connect to dark times, unfortunately. I almost feel like I'm on a different path than everyone in my family, that I've branched off but I shouldn't have and now I'm kind of alone. Understandably so and I know they'll catch up but should I turn around? I guess I just haven't let things get me down because I know, with certainty in my heart, that everything's going to be ok. I haven't let any other thought enter my brain. Maybe that's avoiding the situation, but I think it's just true faith. I know I could be a better person in so many ways. I know I haven't done things the way I maybe should have. I want to give back and help people. That's my ultimate goal. In what way, I don't know yet but someway. I know this post has been kind of elusive and I understand if know one gets it. It was more of a rambling for myself anyways. I love you guys, good night!!

I'm sorry for being M.I.A.

I'm a horrible blogger! I apologize to anyone who was patiently waiting to hear my life on the other side. Before I go into that, I have to be a bit honest here and admit that I have been avoiding a lot of what consumed my former life, blogging included. I did such a 360 that I wanted to pretend, at least for a little while, that that part of me didn't exist. Seeing people still on the list, getting sicker and even passing away, was something I had an even harder time dealing with because of the guilt I felt for being given a second chance out of pure luck and nothing else. When I heard the news of a fellow cyster passing away, who was truly loved by all, it really affected me. And, although I didn't know her personally, I know she was a good person. I cut myself off. I haven't been following facebook that much either. I'm starting to hear a lot of good stories lately though, of people receiving their second chance and I've been slowly coming to terms with my old life and feel that I'm ready to face it, not with fear, but, with a better understanding of what it took to get where I am today. I need to be a beacon of hope to all those that wish to take this path. I need to be strong because that's what it takes to start AND finish this journey.
So I guess it's needless to say that I've been doing pretty awesome. I've been busy living instead of existing, which is what my life was like prior. I had a bit of rejection at my three month mark, which they promptly got rid of with a super high dose of prednisone (I forget the name of the IV drug). I didn't sleep for three days straight on that stuff. All the effects I felt in the first little while after having the transplant have long since gone and I feel pretty normal now. I still notice a little bit of a puffier face but that, and the scars of course, are the only tell tale signs that anything was ever wrong. Our lives here were literally getting back to normal. We had an awesome summer. Jeff and I bought a brand new (oxymoron here) century home. We LOVE it! We cut down a Christmas tree today and it suits the place perfectly, just like my new lungs. I guess everything that has been happening has been pretty symbolic in that it has all been fitting into place so perfectly.....until now. Yep, the shoe dropped and my family got wind of some pretty terrible news about my only sister, who happens to have cystic fibrosis as well but that is not actually the worse part. She was recently diagnosed with Hodgkins lymphoma cancer. That dreadful word. We must have been a cruel family in another life. She's a new mom, a caring wife and absolutely loving daughter and sister. She doesn't deserve this. Just as we take our boots off, and throw away our battle swords, we are called back to battle. But, fight we will and we WILL win this war. Our family is one tight unit, we are lucky for that. She is strong like bull! Hahaha. I love her so much that it hurts to think about all of this. I don't want to watch her suffer. I realize now how difficult is to be on this side, watching those you love go through something you have NO control over. It's a whole other dynamic of illness that I really have not yet experienced. I was not around when my grandmother got sick with cancer because I had moved away to college. I didn't witness her getting smaller, weaker and sicker by the day. This will be tough, to say the least. What will keep me going is knowing that she WILL be okay at the end of this. They say that if someone is to get cancer, this is the cancer to get because it has such a high survival rate. So no doubt she will come out on top, it's just going to be shitty getting there.
On a more positive note, my nephew is the cutest little guy ever! He makes us all smile and laugh everyday. I love having him in my life. I can't wait to be the cool, goofy aunt. I never thought I could love someone else's child so much but I've fallen for him like he's my own.
Well my computer is about to die so I have to cut this short, although I'm sure there's a lot more I could ramble about. I will really try to update more regularly now that I have started back in.
Congratulations to all those who have recently received your second chance. I have been reading your blogs and smiling knowing you will love it!! I'm so happy for all of you. And for those of you still waiting, your time WILL come so stay strong and keep fighting because It's sooooo worth it. I know you read that a lot when you're considering transplant and trust me, it's the truth.
Love you all,
Carla :)

Thank You Donor, Good Night!

So it's 17 days out of transplant and I'm feeling damn good. That's not to say that I feel perfect physically, yet, but it's coming along. I came home yesterday after they finally removed my last two chest tubes. I'm not even all that sure they should have come out as they were still leaking quite a bit, more than I thought the doctors liked but I'm putting my faith and trust in the very smart doctors, that they know what they are doing and not just pushing me out the door because it's a long weekend. Not that I was complaining! I'm so happy to be home sitting in my nice quiet, soft bed. Eating home cooked meals under the warm sun, only to finish the nights off around a fire watching fireworks with the ones I love. It pretty much doesn't get any better that this. And that is why, even though I'm having some side effects show up, I'm still very very happy. These sides effects include the fact that I'm up right now at 2:15 a.m. and cannot fall asleep for the life of me. This is after a day of getting up at 8:00 a.m. and not having a nap all day. Not to mention the fact that last night I didn't fall asleep until around 3:30 a.m. because I was having tremors that caused me to contract my muscles constantly. How am I NOT tired? As for the tremors, I'm guessing they were because I discontinued using any sort of narcotic and it was a withdrawal symptom. I was also sick to my stomach and throwing up all day yesterday. As for today, I'm quite puffy. I woke up feeling like a was run over across my chest. I took 2 Tylenol to alleviate that problem but everything still feels tight around my stomach and my chest, as if my new lungs are trying to push the borders of their new found home but there's no where for them to expand to. I push my stomach out to allow for more room and do some breathing exercises with my bong-like device to stretch my chest. It helps a little. I'm also retaining water now that the chest tubes aren't leaking the excess fluid so my face is noticeably bigger along with my belly and my legs, almost overnight. It's kinda freakin' me out, I'm not going to lie, but I know it will subside eventually so I'm trying not to worry too much. My family thinks I'm crazy, by the way, but I can see it in their faces that they see it too, they're just trying to be nice. That's a question I'd like to pose other post-transplanters, how long did it take you to notice the swelling go down? My prednisone was lowered today to 20mg and next week it will be 15mg.
I spent one hour today sorting all my pills into the cool pill dispenser the nice pharmacist gave me. It's makes it so much more convenient. I also went on two walks outside. No O2. No tubes. No tanks. Just my hubby, my dog, my mom, my sister and my nephew. Nice! I even found myself saying I was restless. I have to remind myself to slow down a lot. I want to do so much more but I have to wait for my body to catch up to what my mind can't wait to do. I AM only a little over two weeks out of major surgery, after all. But, I'm so excited. I've even emailed some people on Kijiji about buying their Bowflex machines because I can't wait to start working out again. I have been an avid exerciser since I was in high school so it just feels natural to work up a sweat to me. When I was sick I stopped working out accept the little bit I did at physio, because, well, I just couldn't. My legs are a little wobbly from the two weeks in the hospital but it could definitely be worse. Physio works! Oh another thing, the nerves in my hands and feet are extra sensitive now. They feel warm water as if it's scalding. By the way, I'm really not trying to complain here. I'm really just relaying my experiences. I'm extremely grateful to be on this side and I'll deal with all these things as they come.
I had my first Bronchoscopy last Tuesday. It wasn't as bad as I thought. The worst part was gargling that nasty freezing stuff. I didn't even gag when they shoved the swabs down my throat. I was pretty conscious too. They probably could have given me a bit more sedative although coming down off those is brutal. It knocks you right out. It was all women in the room and I felt very comfortable with the doctors and the nurse. They said everything looked like it was healing really well. I coughed up a little blood later that afternoon but it's normal to have a little after they biopsied.
What else? Things are progressing the way I figure they're supposed to for the most part. I'm regular now, which took a while because of the pain medications. I had to drink a fluid called 'GoLytle' a couple times in the hospital. I doesn't make you Go Lightly, it makes you Go Lots! Although today I noticed I didn't pee all that much which is why I'm sure I"m noticing the puffiness everywhere else. Should I be drinking less? I assume I should be drinking lots of water to help flush my system out.
Anyways my friends, I'm going to attempt to fall asleep again. I'll stop grossing you out with my excretion stories.
From a very elated girl with new lungs: Thank you donor, good night :)

So yesterday I had a rough day. I woke up fine but when I asked for pain pills from the nurse she gave me only one oxycoton and I needed two at the time. So the next time she ended up bringing me I.V. for pain and that was too much. I didn't know she did that and I didn't want that. I ended up so loopy that I thought I was speaking correctly but I wasn't. I slept almost the whole day. I couldn't even stay open when other people where here. It was also really scary at times because this was the first time I've had that happen to me and it can be frightening to sort of lose your brain. My vision is also starting to go which sucks but they said it should get better when I start to take less prednisone. I had diabetes before too so that's getting hard to manage but I knew that would happen. So needless to say I'm really trying not to take as much pain medication which resulted in a migraine today but that's going away too so all in all tonight should hopefully be good.
Today was pretty uneventful. I might get my chest tubes out soon though. They are leaking a lot less. That would be amazing. I'll keep updating for everyone.
Later, :)

Yep I got The Call!!

Ok I just tried to post my blog from last night and it didn't save so I lost a good two hours worth of writing. Sorry for the delay but I will attempt to keep updating as the days go by. This is what did save....

It's now 9p.m at night and I'm sitting here from my hospital bed at TGH (Toronto General Hospital). I'm sitting here in complete amazement that I am past 'The Call'. It's so beyond words that I'm literally scrambbling to write them and describe how I feel in the most perfect way possible. Obviously I'm elated and excited and also completely thankful to my donor and his/her family. I'm also in shock and afraid that I will jinx it by getting too excited. My family and myself have been knocking on every wood surface and then some since the day of the call. I'll try to go back to the beginning and give everyone a recap of my experience of this amazing gift. This is all my perspective on all of this so it may differ from others, obviously.
It was Monday night at 9:54 p.m. and a phone number crosses the T.V. screen with an unknown name and 416 number. Rogers displays our call display in this fashion so one of us will usually be shouting out who it is calling to calm those of us who know it's a long distance ring but can't see the T.V. I was in the living room with Mom, Jeff and Dan and we all looked at each other with the look of "This could be it".

And I will continue...

My mom answered the phone and I could tell it was the call. She handed me the phone with a small nod. The lady on the other end told me she was from the transplant team and that they had a new set of lungs for me if I wanted them. Hell ya I want them. I didn't say that but I could have. It was pretty standard, she asked me when I had eaten last and told me not to eat or drink anything and where to go when we got to the hospital. As soon as I got off the phone the scrambling started and of course, the tears. I hugged Jeff and mom and Dan proceeded to make phone calls and get stuff together while Jeff and I attempted to put, what I call my pointless, bag together. The only thing I needed was my body and my angels/spirit guides/whatever positive energy I could use and I trully believe I had a lot of those. Everything else can be brought later but I did bring my meds. I said goodbye to my fur babies and we all packed into the Rav (including Leslie, my sister) as the full moon above casted an eerily calm glow on all our faces. It could have been the fact that the last call I received was a false alarm and was therefore not allowing the concept of what could happen to really sink in but I just felt like it was going to be okay. I was still nervous but not as bad. We went to the ER when we got there at 1130 p.m. Traffic again was perfect and we zoomed there. They admitted me there and then sent us to get xrays and then on to the 7th floor to get an I.V. and some anti-rejection pills. The surgeon also came to talk to us as well. We were fully settled in and the nurses were done poking and proding me around 1:30 a.m. We knew the surgery wouldn't be until the morning which was the hardest part. I was waiting seven months up until then but those last six-seven hours were the worst. I tried to sleep while my entourage of family and friends found whatever refuge they could find in the waiting room. Finally after around 7:30 -8:00 a.m. the doctor came in to say it was a go. Reality then came flowing in in the form of an tsunami of tears from all our eyes. It was really going to happen. Wholly shit! And from that point on it went really fast. I didn't really have too much time to panic about it. They sent me down to the OR within 20 minutes of telling me it was a go. I waited with 2 family members at a time in surgical pre-op and was waving my last goodbye to them with a big smile on my face within 45 minutes. Everyone in the OR was super nice and comforting. They made me feel as comfortable as one could feel before knowing you will literally be leaving your life in their hands. I met with the two anesthiologists and one proceeded to give me my arterial line in the left while the other gave me my peripheral in my right hand. They both went off without a hitch. I could therefore relax because the pain and stressful stuff was over, for my part anyways, and the needles weren't even bad, mostly pressure. I told myself to just be at peace with the decision I made and know that my grandparents and even Jeff's Pop and grandpa were all there with me, looking over me. I sent a big bout of positive energy and love into the universe, to my family and friends who would now have to bare the burden of waiting. During this whole process, we all couldn't help but think of the poor family who had just lost their loved one and were having to say goodbye. We definitely sent our gratitude and love. Such a gracious act of kindness. It makes me believe in the good in this universe all over again.
The next time 'I' remember waking up it was sunny and around 9:30 (so I was told) and while I knew where I was, I was confused by the time. I was wondering how it could be 9:30 at night when it was still sunny?! I was then informed that I had missed a whole day. It was in fact 9:30 a.m. Wednesday and although I was awake on Tuesday afternoon, I don't remember any of it. I was motioning to my family with gestures and attempting to write stuff on paper but it was jumbled to say the least. Apparently it was pretty funny. I'm just glad I didn't say anything too bad (or incriminating...you never know what little trinkets of truth might slip from your semi-conscious mind. I guess I don't have any so that's good!)
So Wednesday I awoke with the breathing tube and NG tube, (I think that's what it's called) all four chest tubes plus all the lines for I.V.s and blood gases. I was still pretty dopey though so it wasn't bothering me too much. I was able to write better too. I was not in any pain. I had my trusty little PAC pump (again, I think that's what it was called) that pumped morphene into me whenever I needed it. I used it pretty liberally as I was told not to let the pain get too much ahead of m4 but I also didn't want to go hog wild. That's the balance I'm trying to find now that I'm on oral Oxycodones. If I let the pain get too bad I won't breath as deeply but if I take too much it bungs me up. I can get the meds every two hours right now if I need them but I've actually been able to wait up to four with no problems thus far. It was only a couple of hours before when 'I' remember waking on Wednesday to when they actually took the breathing tube out. The RMT came in to try removing a balloon type piece of the tube but she couldn't take that out without me gasping too much so she just said that she would take it out all together once my levels reached the number they needed to be at. (My levels were at around a 12 and they needed to be around a 5, I think.) When it was getting close to those numbers I did start to get antsy but it happened fast. They were waiting for some of my family to be by my side. Once they got there, I was supposed to breath in and then breath out and cough while she pulled it out. It was relieving to have it out.
The NG tube was left in though so it was still difficult to swallow but I could talk a little at least. I was then taken to step down mid-day. I got up and walked around. My legs were a bit shaky and I was pretty nauseous but I made it with some help, all the way around the block. At this point I still couldn't take too big a breath in because of the chest tubes and the fact that the little lower aolveoli still aren't completely inflated yet. But I knew it was still better and it felt damn good :) My family was so overjoyed. I loved seeing them all so amazed and happy. I couldn't keep too much down accept liquids on the Wednesday and Thursday but by Friday afternoon, I was on a normal diet. I was hungry by then. The NG tube came out on Thursday mid-day. The catheter also came out and I had to get a blood transfusion because of a lower hemoglobin count. Just a single small bag though. I've also been low on Magnesium which they've been supplementing. The NG tube was not that bad it was just annoying so it was a relief to have it out. They also took out a couple more lines. On Friday afternoon I was moved to the 7th floor which is where I've been recuperating ever since. I had two chest tubes removed at that time and my arterial line.
For side affects so far I am pretty swollen but that's common and it's actually gone down a little. I'm also really itchy. I've been given Benadrehyl which helps but because my skin is also thinner, I've been getting random cuts and scrapes from scratching. Plus lots of bruising due to the Heparin injections. I'm really trying hard not to scratch but eeekk it's hard. I was throwing up Wednesday and Thursday but they gave me something for that too and I've been good ever since (again, knock, knock!!) It's now Sunday and breathing is even better and I'm getting more old junk up which is good. The other chest tubes will still be awhile longer but I'm okay with that. I'm just elated to be where I'm at right now. So thankful and happy and always smiling.
On the Friday night, there was a pretty devastating event that happened here and it shook me up emotionally. A guest in the hospital had just recently given her husband the gift of life by donating part of her liver to him. They both seemed to be doing fine and we had met them both when he came by to visit her (not too sure why they weren't in the same room?) Super nice people. At around 3:45 a.m. she was woken (and subsequently myself as well) to the news that her husband had gotten a blood clot that traveled to his brain and had rendered him on life-support. The doctor and nurses were informing her that she would have to go say good-bye and that there didn't appear to be anything they could do. It was sooooo hard to hear her pain. I was balling over on my side, trying to be inconspicuous but it was difficult. I just felt so bad for her and her family. I also felt somewhat guilty for my own positive experience which I know I can't, every case is different and every case has it's risk but it was hard. She was really strong though and I had gone down to give my condolences and some of her family was there. They were all pillars of strength as well as kind. They reminded me to stay strong and not let their tragedy get in the way of my healing. They understood that it was a freak accident and that she had done all that she could have done to try and save his life. She gave him the best gift she could have and she, at the very leas,t had the peace of mind to know that. This was just one of those things that happens, it may not have even been transplant related. There was nothing anyone could do. I send my love and positive energy to her and her family at this time. I wish them all the strength to get through this tough time. I want to walk away from that with knowledge that I may not know what fate will bring in the next while but I know that if anything bad does happen, I know I tried and that I"m at total peace with the decision I've made. I know it was the right one to make. I plan to just rejoice day by day and take the blips when they come. That's all anyone can do.
So now it's night time and the day flew by with visits and such. I'm tired and will be hitting the sack soon but I plan to update more often. Thanks to you all for your love and support.

PMS = Posting Mean Stuff, Reader Discretion is Advised

I should start by explaining my last post. I just re-read it and realized how nasty I might have sounded. I have been feeling 'funny' these last few days. Very moody and emotional and I didn't know why. I should also mention that I stopped taking my birth control, I can't even remember how long ago, and my period had not come back to date. Well yesterday mother nature finally let my body catch up to itself. Oh fun! I was kind of excited none the less because it meant that maybe, just maybe, when I get my new lungs having a baby wouldn't be an impossibility. I don't think I could carry it but I would be open to having a surrogate carry it for us. It's still a long way from my thoughts at this time but at least the door isn't completely closed just yet.
So I may have been a little dramatic the other day. I can't apologize though because that would mean I should be censoring my blogs and I don't think that's the point of these things.
Anywhooo, my cf clinic was pretty straight forward. It was super humid and hot that day and it felt as if weights were in my chest. My pft numbers were .8 something L, around 28%. So it really hasn't changed that much. That's good. They sprung a blood gas on me though. I HATE those things. Particularly because almost everyone that does it has to try a minimum of three times. I hated it even more this time because I didn't have any mental preparation. I truly believe it helps. The way clinic works in Kitchener is that we never usually have any tests other than a spirometry. I was looking forward to an easy, no pain, no exercise physio day. Well the girl missed it the first try, no surprise there, but thankfully the Dr. didn't make her try again. She must have seen the annoyance/pain in my face and felt bad for me. I was so relieved.
On a different note, I'm really trying to find five things everyday that make me happy. I've come to the conclusion that we are truly happy when we realize that what makes us happy isn't the big things but it's a sum of many little things that can sometimes appear big. So here are some for today:
1. I'm going to eat ribs at a favorite spot we found that makes awesome southern food
2. My mom's smile as she headed out to see GLEE at the ACC.
3. My comfy bed
4. My cats. They always put a smile on my face. (Well, accept when Corky gets caught by the cat police and I have to pay 90$ to bail him out. Urgh!) But, I'm happy to have him back.
5. Penny candy!! Jeff bought me some and it's hard to come by. No one sells it anywhere anymore.

Take care all of you,
Carla :)

Oh so much time...to waste

Wow it's been awhile. So I've been on and off I.V.s since January with only a month, at the most, in between. Last time I was in there for a full week which is the longest stay I've ever had because they generally let me go home on home care after a few days. My base line is not all that great so when someone asks me how I'm feeling I want to say good but in truth I feel pretty shitty most of the time, I just feel better in comparison to how I felt before. I'm afraid that when people see me and I look ok and I say I'm good that they'll be asking themselves why the hell I won't get my ass off the couch. That is where my ass has burrowed for quite some time now and frankly, it's staying there. Thank god for all my little servants (and I mean that in the most endearing way guys), I'd be crying in a ditch right now if it weren't for them. I have tons of trivia games on my phone and computer that keep my mind going. Day in and day out, more of the same. I'm luckily one of those whose deterioration is happening slowly and the docs know that so I have a feeling my wait will be a long one. They know I have time to waste...away....slowly. Time to perfect my little ass nest. I go to my CF clinic tomorrow. I get to find out how my G.I. test went. The last time I was in the hospital I had to eat a high fat diet for six days and then collect my shit in a paint can for the last three. Oh how dignifying. This was all to check my pancreatic sufficiency. Back when I was really young they didn't put me on enzymes right away like my sister. I was able to gain weight normally and I didn't notice any g.i. effects as do most CFers. I was finally put on ECS 8s at the age of 12 apprx. I never thought I needed them. It didn't matter if I missed taking my enzymes, I never seemed to have problems in the stomach or bowel area. So one day I just stopped taking them to see what would happen and nothing happened. I could gain weight normally and still, no stomach problems. I told my doctors this and we just assumed that I was one of those lucky ones that didn't need enzymes. Well now that I'm on the transplant list the doctors want to confirm my pancreatic sufficiency because it will affect the dosing of the medications I will have to go on. Obviously someone whose pancreas doesn't work well at all will need a higher dose than others based on the fact that most of the medication isn't being absorbed. So I'm curious so see what the results are. I don't really expect too much from this visit. It's basically a follow up to stopping my I.V.s last week. I don't think I'll need more right away. Monday I had transplant clinic and that went ok. I don't really see the point of those things. They know where I stand. They talk to my doctors. I'm already on status 2, what more can they do anyways? It basically goes like this:
THEM - "How are you feeling?"
ME - "Same as before."
THEM - "So I see you needed IV meds again."
ME - "Yep. It has been a month."
THEM - "Okay well keep us posted."
Am I ever glad I waste my day for that. And let me comment on the bitch that greets us at the counter of this place. Why is that there are so many bitchy receptionists in this world. I know there are good ones too but there are A LOT of crappy ones and this one falls into the crappy pile. In a place where everyone she meets is dealing with so much shit you would think she would be able to look at her own life and think, "This isn't so bad." Maybe her life does suck though. Who knows but she's one snarly biatch. Our nick name for her is smiley.
Today was a rough day for humidity. It felt like the air weighed a ton. Physio went okay but I had to push myself extra hard to get through it.
Anyways, I'll try to update tomorrow on how clinic went.

Later,
luv ya,
Carla :)

Ok, That Was Scary!! (graphic)

So here's the deal. I've been on I.V. meds for about two and a half weeks and I've noticed that they're not really working that great anymore. They seemed to be doing something at the start but two nights ago I had a fever of 101.3 and my chest has been more sore. My coughs have also been more rough and phlegmy. Yum! Today, when we were visiting Jeff's cousin and his wife, I started coughing while holding their brand new baby girl. I knew from the watery consistency that it was blood but I didn't say anything because I didn't want to freak everyone out but I handed the baby over to daddy right away. It seemed to clot pretty quickly so I didn't worry too much as this has happened on many occasions before. Later, when Jeff and I were just starting to enjoy the movie the Blind Side, I started coughing up blood again but this time it was A LOT! The sink looked like a scene from Dexter. Not pretty!1 Of course my mom was panicking, as any concerned mom would do, and called 911 because of the amount of dark blood that just continued to come up. Like I said, I'm used to the occasional episode of blood puking but this was even starting to worry me. The first two to come downstairs was an ambiguous female and nerdy male whom I later found out were fire fighters which would explain the following: they asked me to check my blood sugar and switch from my oxygen to their oxygen (both at the same time by the way, not by design but it was happening so fast that things were being thrown at me: questions, meters, masks, you name it). The paramedics came down soon after. By this time I was sitting on the stairs and the blood has stopped spewing but I was extremely emotional and very intimidated. They switched me back to my air and were puzzled as to why I was checking my sugars. I felt super silly for having all this attention on me and the thought crossed my mind that I might be tying these nice guys up when they could be saving someone's life for real. We were worried though and they didn't seem to mind. I decided not to take the ride to the hospital with them because they would have been forced to take me to the Cambridge hospital which is not where all my doctors are. We made the decision that since it had stopped we would wait until the morning to call my nurse to see MY doctor ASAP. We were planning on doing this anyways. We only called 911 because we were concerned the bleeding was not going to stop. What good would it have done for me to sit in emerge with doctors that have no clue what to do anyways right? Jeff, my mom, Dan and I were all pretty shook up. Needless to say, I need those lungs sooner than later. Sorry for the crappy Mother's Day mom :(

Some Relief

I'm very emotional right now. It's been a pretty lax day, it's been rainy and gray out and I had a good nap after doing my I.V. meds and watching an episode of Sons of Anarchy with Jeff. I had an awesome diner of ham and scalloped potatoes with Mom, Dan and Jeff. Afterwards, mom and I sat down for a competitive match of good ol' scrabble. Because I tend to take an extra long amount of time to put down my chips, mom was perusing through facebook when she came upon a couple posts from fellow CFer friends about a girl who is not doing so well. Now I have never met her but I came upon her blog about a month ago and have been going through her many blogs dating back from 2007 when she was pre-lung transplant up to the present. Her last post was near the end of February though and I have been wondering how she is doing as she was dealing with some complications according to her posts. I said awhile ago that lately I've been feeling kinda numb and that it's been hard for me to even feel anything... but tonight I feel a lot! I starting crying for this poor girl who is laying in a hospital bed right now probably terrified, tired and frustrated. I don't want her to feel that way. I don't want ANYONE to feel that way. So the tears starting flowing. I want to help. I want her pain to go away. I put myself in her shoes and I don't think I could stay strong. Yet she is managing to find strength and I pray that she keeps finding it. This cry felt like a long time coming and I just couldn't stop the tears once they started. I cried for her, for her family and for others who may be going through rough times too. I also cried for each and every member of my family and friends who may one day have to feel pain if something bad happens to me. If I don't make it they are going be left dealing with the grief and I don't want that. I love them so much!!

I went into the hospital on Tuesday of last week because I was starting to notice myself become short of breath more easily so I decided to be proactive and get my butt into the hospital to get checked out (okay my mom made me... but I agreed). I stayed there until Saturday. They put me on Meropenem and Amakacin. I've never been on Amakacin before but Meropenem I'm on a lot. They usually pair it with Tobramycin but I'm actually immune to it (or at least the one strain of pseudo is). The first couple days I didn't even want visitors. I literally just wanted to read and sleep. I also felt pretty sick to the stomach which is common for me. After my little retreat though I welcomed my visitors. My husband and mom made sure I was well nourished and not bored. Dan kept the jokes coming to lighten the mood. My aunt and uncle and cousins made me feel special by making the time to see me and my dad made the trip up from Sudbury and even though he hates hospitals he came a few times with my sister, mom and Jeff. Thanks to everyone who put on the funny penguin suits to brighten my day. It's the small gestures that makes such a big difference. I notice the big and the small and I appreciate them all. Support is the only thing that keeps me going.

Love life live
Carla :)

On My Couch With My Therablogs

Okay so today was a day like any other. Get up after sleeping 12 hours and stay in my P.J.s all day. It was really nice outside and there were plenty signs that spring is here. Yah!! I can't wait for summer to sit outside in the warm sun and enjoy a cold drink while reading a good book. Oh I love that.
I really wanted to talk about how I've been feeling emotionally lately. I have to say that I've had a hard time adjusting to my new quality of life and to the fact that I can't work anymore or do a whole lot physically. For a few days though, I have been feeling quite better. It may be the 'happy pills' I'm on but as long as I feel better it doesn't really matter why I suppose. I have also been quite the stalker on several CF blogs, some belonging to people that I do not know, because it brings me a lot of comfort. I'm not glad that other people have Cf, I am only glad that we at least have a venue to which we can share our different perspectives on, very often, the same events. I'm left smiling, nodding in agreement, crying and even laughing hysterically. I have so much respect for the truth that is shared and the support that we give and receive. I honestly think that these blogs are as therapeutic as any therapist out there. My feelings are often validated and it makes facing this challenge that much easier knowing that others have faced it before I have and are winning the fight or that I'm holding hands, so to speak, with friends as we enter the ring together. Even the loses have their place as their strength shows they did not go in vain.
I guess I've definitely come to terms with this disease. When I was little I didn't even want people to talk about CF around me. I wanted nothing to do with CF. Only a select few of my friends knew I had anything wrong with me and they vowed never to tell a soul and they kept that promise. In grade school, it was my biggest fear that people knew I was different. I was approached to have a speaker come to my school to teach others about the disease and help spread the word about such an unknown affliction to young children and adults but I refused because I was ashamed. I can't remember if I stopped them from coming at all or if I just made them promise not to point me out. When I was about 12 years old I started coughing a lot in class and I can remember the small beads of sweat that would seep from forehead and armpits when the classroom would be silent, watching the seconds hand on clock tick away, all the while praying for the coughing to stop or for us to be able to talk so the noise would cover my hacking, disgusting cough. If you've ever tried to stifle a cough you'll know that it only tickles the back of your throat that much more. It was horrible. At clinic I would avoid eye contact with other Cfers because I didn't want to be a part of this group. That was then and it really saddens me to think that I was so afraid to accept myself. As I grew up I became more assured of myself and I didn't let it bother me so much. I would tell people without caring what they thought but I still pushed it to the back of my mind and tried to live as 'normally' as I could. Now that I'm much sicker I've really had to face this disease head on. I had lost the Hide and Seek game, it had found me. Not only do I have to accept things but my family, friends and husband do too. I've come a long way and now I seek the friendship of other Cfers when I need it most. Yah to technology that allows us to communicate and support each other. I guess at the end of it all I'm just more at peace with everything. I live with by the mantra 'Everything happens for a reason' so I'm just trying to enjoy the small joys in my day and that's all I can do. I have LOTS of love so I'm really lucky.

I seem to be getting stronger at physio which is a plus. Hopefully I stay this way!

Good night to you all

Carla :)

A Hero, I Am Not

So it's been a week since the dry run and not too much has happened. We are still patiently waiting but instead of tucking the idea of being called neatly away in the back of our minds with the assumption that it will be months until we hear from them, it is now sitting ever so dominantly at the forefront of our everyday lives. In the words of my brother-in-law Dave, "Shit just got real!". Now I know it's probably going to be soon and I'm pretty damn scared to say the least. I know I'm in competent hands, some of the best in the world actually, but the whole process just seems so exhausting and hard! Yes I realize I sound a little like a lazy wiener but come on folks, this isn't a run of the mill surgery where they stitch you up and send you on your way to heal for a couple weeks. No, no, this is a 'Say goodbye to your old self because a new one is on its way' kind of surgery. I say 'self' because it will not only be lungs that are changed out in all of this. This will no doubt be a life changer, for the good and for the bad. Now don't get me wrong here I'm not only referring to negative changes, I hope there will be WAY more good than bad, but as many you might know I am a worrier and I tend to zero in on the things that I dread happening. Some of these things are very real and valid reasons to worry such as: waking up with the breathing tube, the pain, death, rejection, cancer, etc. (I hate using etc at the end of this because it makes the list and what is on it seem trivial but frankly I just can't name them all at this ungodly hour but you get the point) Other things I worry about are, yes I'll admit it, just plain vain. [And then you hear the audience gasp in shock as the truth is revealed behind their beloved and seemingly strong CF patient/soon to be transplant recipient. Could it be she's actually.....ughhh...HUMAN!!} I worry about the effects of all the meds, particularly prednisone. I've never been on it and I worry about gaining tons of weight, getting bad acne or having hair grow where it's never grown before. I hate when people roll their eyes at this. Now I'm not saying these worries have the same weight as the ones I mentioned earlier and I know they are things I CAN deal with, I just don't WANT to have to. Plain and simple. There is so much shit I have to deal with and I will have to deal with that I just don't want those things added on the list of shitty things. I know I'm going to get some comments about how I need to just appreciate the new lease on life. I get that. I do appreciate, trust me, I'm just getting it off my chest. I can't be the only one. Enough about that though. I wanted to just let everyone know how I've been feeling lately because the number one single question I get asked is "How are you feeling?" by genuinely inquisitive friends and family and I love you for it. I just got off IV meds a week ago and I haven't felt too bad. Fingers crossed that it lasts. I've even been able to do extra weights and faster pace at physio. That could be because Jeff, a.k.a 'The Tyrant', makes me though. Hahaha. Anyways, I'll continue to keep you all posted.

Carla :)

The Proverbial Dry Run # 1

Okay I'm sure some of you have been waiting to hear about the crazy day we had so I'll fill you in. I just couldn't write the night of because I was so emotionally drained when I got back I had to go straight to bed. I even refused barbecued steak! Who does that?
I was still in bed when the call came. I sleep in the basement and I usually don't wake up for anything but my sub-conscience has been trained to stay alert to the long distance ring, that is different from our local ring, so I heard it. I expected to hear my mom's chipper voice answer with recognition but instead I heard her footsteps start down the stairs leading to our abode. Then I heard the words "So we have to get there as soon as possible?" and I knew. That is 'The Call'! The first thing I uttered was "I'm not doing this" and proceeded to head around the corner to meet my mom. I heard her crying upstairs. I needed to stay strong for her. That's what I was thinking anyways. I was not crying when she came downstairs to announce those five fateful words. She told me to just cry, to let it out, but I didn't want to because part of me knew that if I opened the flood gates, they may never close. I then proceeded to get myself dressed. How does one pick an outfit for something like this? Really? Comfort is what I went for obviously. Nothing matched but who cares. The only thing I managed to do hygienically was brush my teeth, and they're lucky I was able to do that. I almost left in a scrunchy. Anyone with any fashion sense knows you don't go out in scrunchies! Eeekk. Nothing mattered at this point. It felt almost dream like. My mom had taken care of all the phone calls so my husband was making the trip back from Hamilton after just getting there, Dan (stepdad) was turning around from heading to a bike show (sorry Dan!), and Leslie (sister) was leaving Jack with Dave for the day to come (sorry Leslie and Jack heehee). My friend Christine was going to meet us there. Yes, I was bringing my posse. No one was going to like me on that floor. I found out that two of my stepbrothers were also going to make the trip in later. I felt very loved to say the least. It was a sunny Sunday morning and traffic was perfect. We flew there (considering we got stuck behind several Sunday drivers that my mom swore she was going to take out if they didn't get over). We were sent to admitting and then to X-rays. I sat down in one of the only seats left in the waiting rooms while my family stood around. Apparently a footlong sub required its own seat next its owner. Considering the owner would not stop incessantly humming the same tune over and over again, nobody really wanted to sit next to her anyways. It was all I could do to keep myself from screaming, "Shut the Fuck Up!", with all the adrenaline I had pumping through me. I was glad to get out of there. When upstairs, we got greeted by many nice and friendly nurses who poked and prodded me in every crevice they could (and I do mean EVERY). Everything was going smoothly and we were just waiting to hear from the surgeon. He arrived around 2:30 pm and announced himself as Fellow, Fernando Gustalof, or something like that. I know his initials were FG because he signed it on my chest. Apparently he thinks of me as his art project and he's signing his work BEFORE he finishes his masterpiece. My family leaves to get some coffee and me and my friend Christine are left to wait in the room. She tells me from her experience in the hospitals that Fellows are basically trainees in the specializing field. I could see it in her face that she knew she shouldn't have told me this, probably when she saw the look on my face that read, "Are you kidding me?", and the blood quickly drain from it. She followed that comment up with, "But they are in there with the skilled surgeon too". Phew. Good save. Just as we were discussing how awful it would be if this were a false alarm, FG came back to tell us it was No Go! The lungs were examined on their way out of the Donor and they weren't good for some untold reason. At this point I was filled with both disappointment but relief as well. I'm ashamed to admit that but it's true. I look at it this way, at least I was disappointed too! It shows I'm ready for this. I know now that I made the right decision and that deep down I want this, as scary as it is. I did want to get it over and done with but I don't want somewhat good lungs, I want the BEST! I want a bikers lungs (but not yours Christie, maybe someone you know that you don't like too much) Just kidding!
This day did teach me that I have a lot of people standing behind me. I really could not and would not do this on my own so THANK YOU ALL! Love really does lift people, that's for sure. I also know that my day is coming soon. I will get to go to the 'Other' side. No, not 'The' other side but the finished transplant side. I get to start healing and dealing and living my life as normal as one does in this world. I just can't wait to work out so hard that I sweat and feel the burn! I was watching G.I. Jane the other night and my new goal after transplant is a one armed push-up. Yes, folks, I will be the next Demi Moore (without the head shave though). Not right after transplant either, give me a little time, hahahah.
Alright well that's the day in a nutshell. I'll keep you posted if anything else happens.
Love you and good night,
Carla :)

Okay so things are a little different now. I actually have followers who may actually read my verbal outpourings. I feel a little bit of pressure now. I will do my best to be honest, from the heart and not too boring (no promises on that one though). I appreciate you all taking the time to read and post your comments. It means a lot to know I have friends and family who are standing by me and offering their love and support when I need it most. I'm going to try and write a better post soon but I'm tired. I just wanted to say thanks.

Carla :)

One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest...

Here I am still waiting for "The Call" and I can't help feeling like I'm losing my mind. Everyday is pretty much the same with physio, meds, sleep, eating and watching t.v. with the occasional visit to Leslie and Dave's (my sister and brother-in-law) thrown in. My health makes it difficult to do much more than that. I'm obviously not working and social events are few a far between. Since I've been feeling the ominous decent of depression cloud over me, I don't even WANT to talk to anyone anyways! Now with everyone I know having babies I feel completely left in the dust. I'm happy for everyone and I hate feeling sorry for myself but I can't help but feel like I'm losing my identity as well as my ability to relate on any level to anyone. Some days I'm numb, I can't even cry. I'm trying to do my best at keeping myself busy because my biggest fear is losing my mind. I sometimes wonder if these drugs have any kind of side effect that has to do with that. I'll be okay. I just hate all this bullshit.

Nothing feels concrete right now. We, as humans, tend to need structure and some need it more than others. I am one of those people. I'm between homes and I'm letting my independence fall by the wayside. Yep, I'm moving back in with Mommy and letting her do what she instinctively needs to do, mother me. Jeff, my sweet hubby, is coming with me. Poor Jeff! He needs structure and routine more than food. Life is change. This is what I've heard so many times growing up that I try to accept it as a mantra but it doesn't comfort anything if you can't see the other side. It never seems to get any easier.
So I'm on the waiting list for new lungs as of Monday. Yikes!! Has it come to this? I want to feel excited but the fear takes over. I'm terrified of losing myself. I'm not afraid of dying, don't get me wrong, I'm scared that after it all I won't feel the same, sound the same, look the same; I won't be me. This is a MAJOR change: No holds bar, let everything go, kind of change. And yah, I know, it is for the positive but frankly, there will be parts that I may not like and I'm scared that I won't like them a lot. What if these things will over shadow the good stuff? It's completely shallow and self centered but my ego hasn't gone away yet. I don't want it but it stays. I'm trying not to think too much because I'm going to go through with it no matter what anyways so there's no sense it worrying I guess. Anyways, I don't know what else to say. I'm tired.
Good night!!

It's 3:25 in the morning. Sorta tired but fighting it like I always do. Something about the nighttimes that let anxiety seep into my body like a hungry virus. It's taken me awhile to come back here, mostly because I'm not sure I'm all that comfortable with it yet. Blogging is a funny concept to me still. I feel almost narcassistic in a way, assuming someone actually gives a shit about the jumbled ramblings that are the thoughts in my head. But here I am, throwing it all out there and not really expecting it to land. So, like I said, I have a bit of anxiety lately. Not the kind that ends up in severe attacks or anything but enough that it has successfully knawed a hole deep in stomach and demands to be filled with something, anything. My mind is my worst enemy at night. I try to do anything: eat, treatments, watch endless amounts of t.v., read, clean, sew (yah even sew!) to avoid having to just face, well, I guess, myself. I don't really know what I'm so afraid of. I find myself wanting more all time. The need for more has been consuming me for awhile now and it's for things that I don't need and aren't important. We are a society lead by wants. It would be so freeing to let them go. Wants get so confused with needs but they are very different. The ego wants and humanity and nature needs. I don't want to want anymore. The more I get, the more I want, it's a vicious cycle that I'm sure is at the core of this anxiety. Who knows what the source is. I could venture a guess but I'm not sure it's a cookie cutter answer anyways. I kinda know what I need to do to get back to reality though, to stop the wanting and obsessing and feel at peace, quiet one on one time with myself. This certainly helps, getting it out of my head and into concrete visible words. I don't know why but seeing it somehow makes it seem like the worst is over and now I can start to heal. Now I sit here, with my finger on the delete button, thinking how petty I am. My feelings always seem so big in my life. I always feel like I'm in the center of 'me'ness. I need to get out of my head, let go.