My son just helped me vacuum my room and the upstairs. After 10 minutes I was coughing like I had run a mile. So, I put the oxygen on to get back up to maximum and the coughing proceeded to die down. My son came in afterwards and talked to me.
He asked how I was doing with my condition. He commented about how I don’t really talk about it. I thought in an instant, should I lie? No, he would know and get mad. I told him that talking about it makes me cry. He said not to explain. I told him that he needed to know. So, I explained that I wasn’t getting any better and that I am desaturating faster than before. Everything (my treatment plan) hinges on some tests coming up. I explained to him that was why I was so upset Wednesday, because Hurricane Matthew rescheduled a very crucial appointment to treating my condition. He didn’t really say anything.
What is he supposed to say?
I could have told him that I was fine like I do at work. Hey Rachel, how are you doing? Fine. Inside, I feel like there is hand around my throat and a cotton cloud in my brain. How does one tell your everyday co-worker who has their own problems about how you are feeling everyday? You don’t. I have told those that need to know and are truly concerned as to where I am daily.
I am exhausted. Here is picture of what I am working on today to make into a presentation for my final project for one of my classes and what my dog thinks about all my homework.
I have to make this into a 14 slide power point on Publix.
Daisy’s opinion of my homework.
And as a reminder to myself….
