Perspective

Last Wednesday Dan and I went to a quaint little restaurant for dinner.  We sat down and ordered, and I told Dan I would go to the bathroom and be right back.  I walked to the bathroom and as I pushed open the door this wave of memories hit me. The peacock wallpaper reminded me how hard it was to push the door open and how I couldn't breathe just from trying to walk the 50ish feet from our table to the bathroom.  The memories were from the last time we were there, about December 26th. We were there for brunch that day, and it was a struggle to get me out of the house.  It was a struggle to get me out of the car and into the restaurant.  I had a coughing spell and had to sit down in the front area of the restaurant and catch my breath before I could hobble and gasp my way to where my friends were seated.  Soon after I sat down, I had to go to the bathroom.  Dan offered to walk me there because I was breathing so poorly, but I refused his help because I thought, "if I can't make it to the bathroom on my own, I should be in the hospital."  The door was so hard to push open and everything I did in the bathroom was hard.  Setting my oxygen concentrator down so I could do my business. Picking the oxygen concentrator back up, washing my hands. Opening the door again. Part of me wondered why the hell I bothered. And four days later we would call 911 because my breathing was so labored, and I would spend the first two weeks of January inpatient and wondering if I was going to survive my trip to Hawai'i. 

Fast forward to last Wednesday.  I walked into the restaurant like a normal person - no oxygen, no coughing spell, just me. I walked from our table to the bathroom without getting out of breath, and opening the door was easy. 

All of that is possible because of pulmonary rehab.  I have been exercising my butt off and it's been paying off. I had a check up on Monday and my lung functions are about the same as when I was released from the hospital - and that was the best they had been since August! 

I feel so lucky to be able to get my lung functions up this much, and I'm hoping to get them up a little more. I feel lucky to be doing lost things without oxygen, and to be able to do things like open doors so much more easily. The strength I've been building in rehab really shows. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

CF Contact

Image
Me and Trinity: What a cutie! Chest PT on a baby: The Cystic Fibrosis Foundation discourages any contact among CF patients. Personally, I think this is overreacting at its best. Yes, some precautions need to be taken, but it has been blown totally out of proportion. I am writing this because the other night at Concert on the Square I held Trinity. Her mom handed her over to me, and we were talking and then she told me that Trinity has CF. I asked if I should take precautions and her mom said that it was okay for me to interact with her - and I feel that as long as the parent says it's okay, it's okay with me. And I did her chest pt - and it was a nice break for the parents. They have three children under three and two of them have CF. They have a 3-year-old with CF, an 18-month-old without, and Trinity, 2-months-old, with CF. If any family needs a break it's this one. I have always wanted to work with CF kids - and I know how much the CF Foundation would have nothin
Read more

Abuse

 Abuse. This is going to be long, but it’s important.   If you only read the beginning, I want you to know:   If you are a survivor of abuse, or going through an abusive situation, you are not the abuse.   You don’t have to let it define you, and while it’s hard to move on, you can.   I want to end the stigma for abuse victims – which is why I’m writing this.   I want there to be stigma for the abusers, not the abused.   I need to practice saying, “My mother is abusive.” I don’t know why it still hurts so much so long after it happened.   I know she still hates me.   My dad has to be careful mentioning me to my mom or she’ll flip out.   Why does it bother me so much that someone who could be so awful to me doesn’t like me?               A few days ago – January 10 th , a memory popped up of a note I had typed in 2008.   The gist is, I was sick.   My mom was staying with me and I was doing home IVs.   Keep in mind I was 21 when this happened.   I packed and took my 9pm IV dose w
Read more

Social Media Break

Today, on Facebook I posted, "I want to delete my social media apps for the entire month of October, or until I'm feeling better, but I know I'll never be able to do it.  I rely on photos of friends' kiddos and food and sewing projects to keep my spirits up, and I worry about my CF and Transplant friends, and I want to stay in touch with everyone.  I want to encourage my friends who are also going through tough things and just be there to support anyone who needs a supportive ear.  So I won't delete my social media, but I won't be monitoring it as closely.  I'll be limiting my time spent scrolling, and I'll avoid all the political articles.  Go to my blog for the longer explanation of how I'm doing."  Yesterday was “Mean Girls” Day, October 3 rd , and George suggested we watch it.   I know he wanted to cheer me up and help, but I got sucked into the internet – again – and ended up binging on articles about PTSD.   I read about PTSD and chronic
Read more