Not a Clever Blog Post

Okay, so once again I find myself without any clever stories or deep thoughts, but with a nagging need to update this blog just to give you all some sense that I am still breathing, still surviving, still living (it's not the same thing), and still...well, waiting.

I am somewhat under the weather (which is rainy and gross), slightly under stimulated (because of the weather and the fact of being under the weather), and fully under the covers (at this moment, not all the time).

I am definitely over being sick (who isn't?), occasionally overwhelmed with the process (I'm told this is "normal"), and completely overjoyed for my friend Kelley (she received her new lungs Monday morning and is doing well).

I have emails to reply to, but I promise I still love you all.

I have phone calls that have gone unanswered due to coughing spells and breathless moments, but you will hear from me.

And no, the irony that I am keeping people waiting is not lost on me, in case you were wondering.

But, here's the deal: today I am going for a walk, I am going to do several treatments, I am going to rest and nap when I need to, I am going to pet my dog and I will let him win at tug of war, and then I will maybe read or write or work a crossword puzzle and chat with my mom and maybe a couple of friends. And then tonight, I am going to try and go out for dinner, just so long as the weather holds up and I'm not too much under it.

And then tomorrow I am going to go to my appointment, and rock my 6-minute walk test because I always do. The doctor will tell me that I need new lungs and I will agree with him. He will probably also tell me that I need to see my CF doc soon to get more IVs and I will agree with that as well. We will both be agreeable. And then I will go home and I will be exhausted and maybe coughing so hard again that my 30-minute frequencer session will end up taking over an hour (like it did this morning) and my mom will say (like she did this morning) that "at least you weren't up in the middle of the night vomiting" and I will say "yep, at least there's that." Because it's true. There's always something to feel good about, after all.

So the world will keep on turning every single day until I get this transplant, and then every single day after that, and who knows what will happen except that I will get up every morning try to remember that I am not surviving, I am living.

And as for today, I will go on a walk.