Two weeks ago today I sat at my computer. With my airway clearance completed and a stomach full of McGriddle, I had the entire weekend ahead of me. Would we spend it at the beach? Any local events? What to do. Then I coughed and it was blood. Not a lot, but a surprise. I wasn’t exercising or doing anything that might create that result. But there it was in all of its glory. And I knew the weekend was gone and I needed to bother my doctor for some cipro on a weekend.
Today, I sit at the computer, an iPad, and my location is a hospital room. Day 14 of this unbelievable odyssey continues. And though I’ve done a good job up to now holding back certain thoughts I’ve fought with for 30 plus years, I feel like giving up, ending it. It’s all so overwhelming – the past two weeks and the future. I’m not sure how I am going to do it, balance everything, work, life and possibly oxygen for the first time. The O2 feels like the least of my worries. Just trying to keep my life as I know it presents the most fear. Do I have the energy to live it?
I used up all of my fighting-stress reserves the past two weeks. I have nothing left. I feel like a piece of safety glass fully cracked and splintered. One tap to it with a hammer is all it will take to shatter the glass into a thousand pieces, never to be put back together again.