A favourite quote and a way by which to approach life.

Today is the tomorrow that you worried about yesterday.

Wednesday, 23 July 2008


I've been struggling considerably with my breathing for several days now, and this morning I have that strange, panicky foreboding that I often get before crisis point and admission. I hate the feeling almost as much as the attack, and I know there's nothing I can do about either. This is horrible. Things are probably feeling worse (emotionally so) this morning as I didn't get any sleep last night so I'm already tired before the day has had a chance to get going, let alone the difficulty of breathing my way through it. I have too much work to do to end up in hospital. I'm so far behind with my OU course and really must get my very late essay written and sent off before I end up in hospital ... I have no control over this though and I may not get the assignment done.

I'm so tired. I need some sleep and I need to breathe more easily, but I know that I won't get good sleep until I can breathe, and I know that I won't get easy breathing until the damn thing breaks and I go into crisis first. How am I to get through the exhausting fight for life when I'm so tired before I start? I hate this. I want to cry. It won't help though, because it won't take away the inevitable, and it'd probably only make my breathing worse too.

So what is my plan of action? Plod on as I am, waiting for critical point to arrive; make sure I have everything I need in my hospital bag (it should be there, because I restocked after the last admission); make sure my medication list is up to date; do what I can for my late essay, but also contact my tutor; ensure I have my treatment protocol letter from my consultant to hand; dose up on nebulisers; contact friends to let them know of impending admission. Actually, most of my friends already know and are expecting me to be admitted shortly as I've been struggling so much recently. I think it may be a relief for some of them when I do actually go into hospital, although they know that there's no guarantee that I'll survive. Obviously I have done so far, but it's been a close call on too many occasions, so neither my friends or I take my survival for granted.

I wish I could just quell this feeling of foreboding. I wish I could distract myself. I wish it would all just go away.


Anonymous said...

Sending you massive hugs Becky, you know where I am if you need me.


Anonymous said...

*hugs* and wishing as easy a time of it as possible


Anonymous said...

we love you Becks. Hope to see you when I return north. Love Gingexxxxx

Anonymous said...

I haven't even met you, but hope to soon on a walk.
Your story really touched me.
Please take care