Tyvaso. Just ONE of my current medications. 14 breaths 4 x a day. Yeah, I know. That’s a lot of puffin’ folks.
Is it working? Apparently not. Why? Who knows? Am I handling this well? No. No I’m not. I’m pissed!
I know I’m supposed to say that God won’t give me more than I can handle but nuh uh…my plate is full. Hell, my plate was full before all of this started. I kind of just want to look up and say “what did I do to irritate you?” I’ve always tried to be a good person. Perfect child…except that Minor in Possession which totally wasn’t my fault…a good wife, mother, sister, Mimi, friend…the list could go on. I know I’m not without fault, without sin…but DAMN! I’m sick of the breathlessness, the chest pains, the blue lips, riding that FUCKING scooter in stores—except Costco. Costco scooters haul butt. Wait. I also don’t really mind that there’s always some 80 year old fart that’s willing to reach the chicken bouillon on the top shelf for me. God forbid that I would actually lift my butt up off of the seat. Okay! I feel better. There’s one for the Pros column.
I sorta feel better. Sort of. I might even think about being chipper tomorrow.