My little feet are exhausted and I'll tell you why!
1. I've been running.
Your eyes are not deceiving you! I finished up my three-week round of IV antibiotics on Monday, and my home care nurse came that day to deaccess my port (this means she removed the needle, but the port itself will remain under my skin for the next time I get sick). Later that night, I went on my first run since the winter. I won't lie and say I went very fast, but I did go far - 40 minutes worth of jogging/walking! My lungs were hurting, as were my legs, but at one point during an inspirational song I honestly almost cried out of happiness. Kinda lame, I know, but I just felt so proud of myself. It's been scary to see my health decline over the past year, so choosing to fight for my life has renewed my sense of purpose in the world. I've gone on two runs since the first, and I think they're already starting to get easier.
2. Class is back in session.
I haven't stopped taking classes since I first moved to Ann Arbor in the fall. Although the spring term ended two weeks ago, I had to take two "Incompletes" and I am still making up assignments. But I think Zoloft (my anxiety drug) has started to work, because I haven't yet had any panic attacks about catching up; fingers crossed that it stays that way! Summer term started last week, and I'm really happy about my decision to drop one of the classes I was going to take. Just having my Introduction to Literature class on Tuesdays and Thursdays is giving me a lot of time to do extra treatments and rest, so hopefully my lungs will get back to where they need to be within the next few months.
3. I went back to work.
Tonight was my first shift back at the coffee shop since I got sick, and I was ridiculously nervous to close by myself. I was only on my second week of the job when I had to go to the hospital, so I was unsure about my ability to remember all of the drinks. It ended up going really smoothly, and I found a little surprise in the tip jar at the end of the night. :)
My lungs have been pretty junky, these post-IV days . . . I'm having trouble going to sleep and staying asleep because I'm coughing more than I usually do. Additionally, I'm waking up super early with tons of thick mucus and chest pains, which isn't the most fun. I had a clinic appointment yesterday which my mom was able to come up for, and my lung functions weren't what I wanted them to be: only 63%. That number was a bit disheartening to see after JUST having gotten out of the hospital, but it just goes to show how sick I was in the first place. I feel really dumb for waiting so long to get treatment, but it was an awful time for me to be sick and I was hoping to just get over it. Unfortunately I set myself back pretty far, so it'll take a while to regain that lung function. But that's just even more motivation for me to stick with my running! I love this life and I want more of it.
Dr. Simon said that I can start taking Orkambi! He estimated that it will take 6-8 weeks for insurance companies to figure out how much of it they're going to cover, which better be 100%, because the drug costs $250,000 a year. I can't wait for pharmacies to start stocking it so I can see if it does my lungs any good.
Here's my most recent vlog - my mom and I took the camera to the CF clinic. Subscribe, if you'd like!
"I write for the same reason I breathe . . . because if I didn't, I would die." -Isaac Asimov
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Monday, March 9, 2015
Solemn Gratitude
Right now, I find myself struggling with the concept that life offers no paved path. While those who know what they love receive little guidance on which forks to take, those who are anchored to nothing have an even harder time of knowing where to go. As I've said and thought so many times in the past few weeks, the future is unwritten. And while I have superficially accepted this fact, I am admittedly lost.
Somehow, living in a wide open world is sometimes more terrifying than living in one with no choices. It's very tempting to feel alone--the people who previously surrounded me like winter children on a recess playground have now dispersed in every imaginable direction. At the blast of adulthood's gun, we are sprinting.
My life one year ago was unimaginably different than the life I am living now, and that is a wonderful thing. (It means I am growing.) When I take time out of my day to consider this disparity, I feel lucky: genuine friendships and newfound independence have flooded my life. However, I've realized how horribly easy it is to remain unsatisfied. To think I have no friends and I can't do this alone and I'm just going through the motions.
Perhaps this thought process is one of society's ultimate plagues. Perhaps if I, or you, or anyone could consistently remain in a state of thanks, each day would uphold its supreme value in our collective mind. Perhaps if we revisited being winter children on a recess playground, spring on a college campus would reemerge as wildly sweet.
Somehow, living in a wide open world is sometimes more terrifying than living in one with no choices. It's very tempting to feel alone--the people who previously surrounded me like winter children on a recess playground have now dispersed in every imaginable direction. At the blast of adulthood's gun, we are sprinting.
My life one year ago was unimaginably different than the life I am living now, and that is a wonderful thing. (It means I am growing.) When I take time out of my day to consider this disparity, I feel lucky: genuine friendships and newfound independence have flooded my life. However, I've realized how horribly easy it is to remain unsatisfied. To think I have no friends and I can't do this alone and I'm just going through the motions.
Perhaps this thought process is one of society's ultimate plagues. Perhaps if I, or you, or anyone could consistently remain in a state of thanks, each day would uphold its supreme value in our collective mind. Perhaps if we revisited being winter children on a recess playground, spring on a college campus would reemerge as wildly sweet.
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