It feels like such a sinister idea

Today was a very muggy warm day, but not overly so. For the second day in a row I wore my o2 for about 75% of the day (go me!) and i'll be honest, it helps me navigate the house and not get so out of breath. I still get out of breath but it's not horrendously painful or anything. So go me.

My ears have popped - finally! Both of them. Let us rejoice, sing Kumbya and play the piano as loud as possible in celebration. I was right in assuming w/e 'loss' there was only temp and probably a result of dried out sinuses, clogged ears, and weather.

I'm on 15mg of pred. Face has gone down, but stomach is bloated. I want to shit a cannon, and it's not gonna happen, so i took matters into my own hands and downed an exlax (something i have never taken). Anyone with bad lungs can attest to the fact that if you need to shit and it's not happening, it makes breathing that much worse and more uncomfortable. Hopefully this is a one time thing.

I still only feel 20% since leaving the hosp, and that's ok. I know i was and am sick. It has helped me realize that i need to take my time more, wear more O2, slow down, b/c i cant do what i used to, and i accept it. It helps that i've finally knocked my guard down and have let my parents know...it really does help that i'm not hiding the degree to which this affects me anymore.

I have my window wide open. It's gorgeous. Dad cut the grass and the smell of the outside night, fresh cut grass, and mild rain is drifting through. I love it. The sky is pink to the west and navy on the other side. The breeze wafting through my window is warm and it feels like summer. When nights are like this I want nothing more to do than just lay in bed with my window open, with a dull light on, reading straight into the night. I reminds me of last summer when i read Outlander: reading all day long, and staying up till 4am in the darkness of my room. There was something so magical about it that I love. It's not like I have anywhere to go, or anything to do tomorrow either. Tonight is the perfect night to stay inside and finish my book up:) Sure, I have about 250 pages but it can be done:) There's something so bizarrely sinister and alluring about it that I can't quite explain, but i'm completely in love with the idea.

Anyways, i should resume from the pages of my Incarceration Diary, so here's Day 2/3:

May, 4, 2009
7:47am

Would today be the 2nd or 3rd day of being here? That dilemma always confuses me. I got here Sat afternoon, then there was yesterday, then today...so I guess it's 3 days. Whatever.

Had a better night and sleep. Breakfast hasn't come yet, and i think i'll wait to see what it is before I go to Timmies. More courteous, you know?

I'm starting to feel better. I hate to admit it but the pred is helping. Can pred be my friend? If it stays like this, sure, but it isn't a given. I can now go to the bathroom without gasping which is nice and i can move around on the bed easier, so yay. I'm still tight, but starting to clear my lungs out. Today though, i've only coughed up one thing: it was yellow green. So progress is being made, which is nice.

I'm still having trouble with the fact that everything that comes out of me smells like cat piss. Everything! Gah.

In my 2-3 day stay i've made an observation: when it comes to airway clearance, and...how should i say it? discreetness, us young people are definitely better at the coughing it up and out dealio with more etiquette. Ie: quieter, no hacking wetness where you can hear them do it beside you...and hear it actually come out into the kleenex or w/e it is they use. I dunno, maybe i'm a horrible person. I mean sure we all get loud sometimes but only if we're (ok me), alone. I guess it takes years of practise!

Somehow, in my prednisone induced eating frenzy, I managed to smear Doritos all over my IV dressing - on the inside. How? I'm not quite sure, seeing as it's on my upper right arm, and it's smeared all over the clear white tape too. Impressive.

I'm so glad i brought this journal to keep me sane. I had one with me in Sick Kids when i first got dx at 17, but somehow, between leaving the hosp and arriving home, I lost it. It makes me sad b/c i wrote a lot, most of which was incredibly angry but oh well. It would be nice to go back and read it.

Breakfast just arrived: oatmeal, cheese, muffin. Not bad, except for the fact that I just spilt coffee all over my bed.

5:03pm
Mum just left. I was sat to see her go. Hoping to be out tomorrow. Still not sure what is wrong with me *sigh*. Lots of inflammation, plugs, crap.

Blah.

I'm going insane in here.

*end of day 2/3*