I think we're getting sick.
We feel sick but we're not quite sure. Sickness is not full-fledged yet.
*you wait and then BAM!*
FUCK. We're sick. We should have gone to the doctors. Oh well.
Usually when i begin to fall ill, this is how it goes. It's a game of cat and mouse, hide and seek, wait and go. Usually it starts off with a numbing, floating, pain in the lungs (which docs swear is BS b/c lungs don't have feelings but i'm pretty sure THAT'S BS b/c mine DO feel pain - esp when my lower left lung pops).
With this floating pain is more coughing, which hurts too. More phlegm (which is always hard to decipher b/c there's just sooo much how can you honestly tell when there's more??). It's almost always dark in colour which makes it that much more difficult to gage the actual amount of sickness that recides on the inside. So we wait. And we get sicker. We get so sick that we just don't feel it anymore and don't even bother to go to the docs. We just wait till the next one comes about.
That's probably not normal, and it's probably not a mentality that i should adopt and keep post-tx, since it could possibly result in rejection, bronchiectasis again, or something else completely dreadful. I mean fuck, i fought hard enough to get new lungs, it'd be completely irresponsible for me to go and fuck that up.
So anyways, that's usually how the art of getting sick occurs. It's a huge confusing battle and neither side wins. So whatever.
Truth be told I'm not sure if i'm sick again...or if it's just my regular 'sickness' paying a visit, reminding me that lung disease does in fact completely suck. It's so hard to gage like i said. I feel like i'm repeating myself.
I'm still waiting for another 'call', hopefully the 'real' deal. It's weird but i find myself getting frustrated that it hasn't come or that i don't know when it will come again. It's weird to think that a week ago tomorrow i got a potential call. It's weird to think that had i not dicked around i could have possibly made it to the hosp in time. I still can't help but feel that i moved entirely too slow, even tho i did run from the docs office to my car, and proceeded to hurt my ankle in the process. I know tho that i could have easily made it to the hosp and had the surgery be called off so.....It's just weird to think that had it all worked out, i'd be breathing with new lungs right now.
Oh well...I have to stop with the 'if's, and's, or but's'.
There was an uproar at rehab today over parking. This resulted in me calling the parking man a 'douchebag', a 'bastard', and that canceling my parking card b/c i needed to pay again even tho i payed the $14 last week, was 'bullshit'. Everyone who goes to rehab had this happen to them, but the man was set on his ways and said i had to pay again. I told him i wouldn't, and that i didn't keep track of what day of the month i paid my parking fee...i just knew that i paid the 25th of August and that i'm pretty sure i only pay once a month instead of twice. I hope he gets his shit sorted out or else i won't be coming. It's too tedious for me to walk to security every rehab appointment just to fight with the guy and pay this parking 'fee' that doesn't exist.
That's about it. Nothing exicting is happening to me. I'm watching the Tudors at the moment, where the sex is good, the men are hot, and i get extremely jealous of the outrageous dresses and hordes of man jewelery adorned in and around their pantaloons.