Honesty is the best policy

I found it in my horrible diseased self to be honest with my dad today. And not just honest like, "your shirt is on backwards" kind of honest: i was honest about how i felt.

In the lungulars.

Anyone who knows me knows that I have an extremely hard time telling my parents - especially my dad - about just how shitty I feel. My mum is easier to tell b/c she won't break down and feel guilty about it and feel bad to my face. I know she does - it's natural - but to my face she listens and is great about it. But when I tell my dad he shakes his head and gets upset and I hate to see that, b/c i feel like it's my fault. I know it's not my fault, and i know he knows I don't think that, but I feel bad for making him feel bad, and b/c of that feeling of badness I just don't bother to tell him just how bad the badness is until it goes away.

Or not at all.

The standard convo about my lungs day to day goes like this:
Dad: How are you feeling today?
Me: The usual. You?
Dad: *sigh* Are you sure?
Me: Yes. *walks away*

But today when I came home from picking something up, I sat on the stool and huffed and puffed and dad said,
Dad: How are you feeling?
Me: I feel like shit.
Dad: *sigh* Well you better call the hospital tomorrow
Me: I have to anyways *walk away*

Don't be concerned about the me 'walking away' bit. That's just how it is. I don't really like sharing my illness feelings with my dad in his presence more than is strictly necessary. I know that's probably weird, and probably unhealthy, but I know that my parents feel bad that I am sick like this and there is nothing they can do. I don't want to have to make them feel bad by wallowing in my crappy feelingess in front of them, so it's easier for me to vamoosh and wallow somewhere else, where I can at least be creative.

I have been on Cipro and while I am less productive, it is still the same colour and i still feel horrible. I feel like my lungs are stuck to my ribs, and someone told me that they probably are. So tomorrow after my lesson, I will ring up my co-ordinator and tell her, and then I will plead with her to not admit me until after Weds, as I have a test then that HAS to be done and out of the way. That is my bargain and I hope it gets accepted.

In other news, the neb compressor scenario has been dealt with temporarily. My dear friend Sarah has been kind enough to lend me her extra compressor until I am done Tobi, and in that time I will try to get mine fixed. The fact that I actually went to length to procure another one speaks volumes for my frame of mind and initiative, b/c usually I would just leave it and stop Tobi altogether and fuck it all. But the fact that I managed to borrow one to complete Tobi tells me that something serious is most likely wrong with les lungs.

And if we're gonna be honest, if I do end up getting admitted, at least i have more or less accepted that i can no longer do this on my own. That is the game of lung disease, and sometimes you must accept help.

Other than that I hope you're all well.

Before I go, this is just one reason why i'm so afraid of whales. Good luck not dying:

RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!!!!!!

I've come to realize that I'm afraid of bizarre things. First sharks, then sharks miraculously breaking out of my bathtub drain and then eating me, or a snake biting my ass as it slithered up the toilet pipe after it escaped from a neighbours house, and now humpback whales, sperm whales, sinking on a ship, being in explosion, oceans, sea monsters, getting murdered and iceburgs.

I blame google for many of my 'things i'm officially scared of' afflictions.