I just read Dr. Nanos’s new post at http://pleasepassthesalt.tumblr.com/post/984144678/the-perfect-day.

Awesome. In fact, so awesome, I’m stealing the idea for one of my own.

The Perfect Day

If I woke up tomorrow and didn’t have cystic fibrosis, I would . . .

smile like the joker and not have to put on my vest or neb xopenex and two hypertonic salines at 7:00 a.m., each morning for the rest of my life.

be able to skip sitting at the dining room table using the flutter until I coughed up a minimum of six more secretions after I finished the hypertonic saline.

feel better and eat three McGriddles for breakfast.

buy one of those unlimited Jet Blue tickets and visit some Twitter friends across the country. Chipotle anyone? Then I’d pack the family and head over to England and visit a few friends there and watch West Ham United get their asses kicked. But it would still be great because I’d convince my good friend to storm the field with me and cause a riot, as it doesn’t take much to get English soccer fans riled up. I’d end up in jail and not have to ask the jailer if they had a portable nebulizer I could use. Then I’d head down to Torquay, England and listen to a friend spin some vinyl and get drunk until I woke up face down in some cottage with magic elves, who would carry me back to the hotel, where I’d throw up all over the bathroom, ticking off my wife and daughter, who would ask for a new room, but still love me the next day.

travel more on business, which I don’t anymore because of my health and the fact I have to haul so much extra crap with me and fear ending up in a hospital in another state or country.

not do my mid-afternoon and late evening treatments and get to bed before midnight each night.

not boil my six nebs, flutter, and eFlow nebs.

play tennis and plan ski trips and ride my bike until I passed out or found the place where cows have holes in them.

do more with my friends because I’d feel a whole lot better and be able to plan ahead with confidence.

kill all of my enemies. Hmm, maybe not. Perhaps, I would grant them immunity. Some of them. You know who you are, MoFo’s.

go to jail for taking a 3-iron to the car of the guy who threw a cigarette butt out of his window while sitting at the McDonald’s drive thru.

not cough up blood or worry about coughing up blood.

show my wife what it’s like not to have an ill husband.

fly to Denver and watch a Broncos game with my daughter.

move somewhere remote where they have lots of trees and rain in the summer. Somewhere there’s no CF clinic. We could live anywhere. Anywhere.

get more than six hours of sleep each night.

blog about Dairy Queen, not CF.

take the bag off my head.

spend a fortune on plastic surgery.

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