My Valentine's Day

I've felt like crud for the past few days and haven't had the energy to brush my teeth, let alone blog. Well, I do brush, as best I can with this monstrosity in my mouth.

I will back up...

Wednesday I managed to go for blood work and see the ENT (they fit me in). The ENT couldn't see a real problem with my throat and suggested that it may be acid reflux causing the soreness and that it is likely happening at night, therefore I'm unaware. He switched one of my meds and recommends sleeping propped up.

I've decided I'm either going to strap myself to a door standing up, or sleep like my gone-from-this-world-best-cat-ever Max:



I'm hoping he's right. As far as the monstrosity, otherwise known as the ulcer eating away at my face - he had no answer. He actually apologized for not having an answer for either issue. And I actually drooled a few tears from my eyes and said, "That's ok, I'm getting used to not getting any answers."


Did I mention how cool I am?

Thursday was much better. As per usual, I had the energy of a 126 year old, but I forced myself to touch up the 50 shades of gray sprouting out of my head and then....ready....went to the store and got Brad's birthday present!!!

I will be honest. The floor of the store looked very cozy and I was tempted to lie down. Then the logical side of me kicked in, and I realized that once people saw me they would attempt to do the same, and I'd have created a sleeping circle. I just can't have that. I prefer to sleep alone. Or with Brad. And Griffin. Also Jagger. Crosby sleeps on the floor, as he weighs the same as I do.

I made it home. During the drive home I came to the understanding that I likely shouldn't be behind the wheel. Not due to any medication, but due to my energy and therefore undeniably slower reaction time. Thankfully nobody slammed on their breaks in front of me, no cute little animals crossed my path and there were no street shoot outs that I had to dodge.

Brad came home; but he wasn't alone....

Happy Anniversary!!!! Love my flowers; bright and beautiful - like my face. I kid, I kid.

Unfortunately that night I wasn't feeling the best, so instead of going out to dinner, we ordered in. It was perfect - minus the pain, but the anniversary overrode that.

Friday morning I woke with Brad and took the dogs out with him. I was weak and tired but wanted to help. Try saying no the squeege. Not easy if I have any energy at all. As soon as we got back I crawled back in bed with my furry boys surrounding me. Best place in the world. Better than floating in a pool of caramel. Better than a life time supply of kraft dinner and hotdogs. I would give up a lot of things for my bed.

Well...not coffee. Not coffee for sure.

I peeled back my eyelids at 10. The dogs were content. The world seemed content. I was not moving my body. I lay there. I gawked around the room. My eyeballs hurt. Felt like someone was trying to dig them right out of the sockets. My head hurt. Felt like someone was knocking on my head - with a hammer. My whole body ached. I could barely move.

 At 10:30 I emailed my favourite CF nurse coordinator in the world, asking if I could skip the blood work I was supposed to go in for. 

I got a huge NO. Once we discussed how awful I felt (like my body was being held down by a couple of trucks) she advised me that I was going to be admitted to hospital again.

My best friend, Shannon, came over and stayed with me for the day. She left work and played nurse. She should have been a nurse. She's very nurse-ey. Nurse-ey??

She packed my bag, Brad grabbed my favourite pillow and a cozy blanket, they stuffed me in the car and we came here. For once I didn't fight it.

I know I need to be here. I'm not well. Ok, I'm sick. I have low red/white blood cell counts. My blood work shows infection. I have pain in my stomach that's lasted weeks. I have no energy and am always tired. I ache. My face is being eaten by an ulcer.

So, I'm good.

Yup, all good.

I'm where I need to be.