Today was a bad day. One of my worst in a long time. I honestly couldn't get out of bed until this evening. I woke up around 7:30 and finally felt okay. I'm hoping that I'll sleep well tonight and then have a better day tomorrow.
The movie I went to see was good - but the ending was confusing. I am now a huge fan of the WI film festival. We all know how much I love movies.
Tomorrow will be exciting because I get to see my Sarah!!! Only to grab a bite as she passes through town, but at least I get to see her!
God today was awful. I don't know why but I'm in a considerable amount of pain - joints and things, and that level of uncomfortable-ness is just enough that I can't do much. I had a really hard time walking to and from the theater this evening, but I didn't want to say anything to my friend because it was raining and I too wanted to arrive quickly. But it made me think about Italy and how many times I'm going to have to say "Slow the fuck down! It's not a race!!!"
I'm not very good with the telephone - well unless I know you well, and then I can talk for hours and hours. But if you are awkward on the phone, that tends to bring out my awkward side, and GOD there is no one more awkward on the phone then the kid I talked to tonight. Very brief conversation about tomorrow night's UWMBDA dance, but basically I was flustered from the start because the kid MUMBLES. I couldn't understand what he was saying! And I'm fluent in mumble - my dad, my grandfather, my brother and several other male friends mumble horribly. I've dated mumblers, but no one who mumbles this bad. The time between when I heard the mumble and when I understood the mumble was just way too long - long enough for me to ask him to repeat what he had said. And then I would figure it out and respond.
What a disaster today was - except for that movie - but it took all my energy to get me there.
But Tricia is doing well - up and WALKING - and it's less than 24 hours post surgery She's breathing without the vent - with her brand new lungs!!! And she's been on a vent since the beginning of January - this is surreal and emotional for me because I know it's something I could (but hopefully won't) face. In some ways I want to go through with transplant because I want to know what it's like to breathe with healthy lungs. I've never known what that is like.
At the same time, I'm not a fan of surgery, and I'm Grumplestiltskin when I wake up, and they would want me to WALK as soon as I wake up? I'd be like, "Bitch, please, I'm trying to sleep." Because that's the attitude I wake up with after surgery.
The last surgery I had was pretty pleasant, as surgeries go, however. I kept joking with the transport staff - and they didn't get my jokes. As they wheeled me into my room, one of them said, "Here you are, now you can get some rest." And I said, "No, I'm going dancing." They didn't get the joke.
I could barely talk and I asked "Family? Where's a family?" And they replied, "I don't know where your family is." And at that moment, my boyfriend at the time happened to walk in to check and see if I was back yet, and I smiled and said, "There's a family!" He called my mom and she and my brother came up to my room shortly.
All through the night I kept wanting to see my brand new port. I kept asking for mirrors and my mom was nice enough to give in to my crazy requests. And for the next week (no wait, I think it was about a month) I told EVERYONE about my port - "Did you see my port?" "Look I've got a port!" You have no idea how many times I told my family, "I have a new port."
I can't even imagine what I would be like after transplant. "Let me see my scars." "I wanna see." "Eww." "I wanna see the chest tube that's causing so much pain." "Can they stick a camera down my throat so I can see the inside of my new lungs?" "Guess what, I've got new lungs!' I'm pretty sure I would drive everyone nuts showing them the scars, taking pictures of the scars and announcing over and over. "I've got new lungs."
It'd be totally worth it.
France won the World Cup and all I got was a lesson in how to chill out - On Sunday I befriended a 20-year-old French kid named Etienne while sitting on the concrete railing of a walkway leading down to the Seine. We were gathere...
4 days ago