Back to Germs

Tomorrow is clinic day again. My nerves will be sky-high in about 14 hours. Lucky for me, I timed everything so well with back to school season, and the cold and flu bugs that come with it.

My new oral drug did wonders again (just like the last one did right before it faltered randomly at the end of the 2 weeks), but I was fortunate to catch a bug from a child a day before he experienced any symptoms. BOOM: sore throat 4 days before clinic. I actually feel alright though now (short of a throaty voice), so here's hoping.

Then, I go to the store tonight to pick up a handful of necessities, and both my cashier and her adjacent friend are outwardly sick. Mine actually sneezed as I arrived and proceeded to comment about it. It got me thinking about how I approach life and how I'm expected to by friends, family and doctors.

Ever since I've been out of work, my family and friends have been developing an opinion that I spend too much time thinking about CF. I read blogs, talk to my "CF friends", talk about them and who does well when and how. I get it. Focusing on CF can bring you down, in the sense that statistically, outcomes are negative, which doesn't inspire hope. Lack of hope inspires inaction and depression. Also, when it takes over ones life to such a degree, its hard to make conversation in the real world. I've experienced all of this.

The problem is, my life before fall 2007/winter 2008 was the complete and utter opposite. I compeletly did not see the impact of each one of my actions (or inactions) when it came to CF. I did my meds like a champ, but physio and exercise were a non-existent world. I never thought about it because it never stopped me. I walked where I wanted to without problems and lived my life. I watched my numbers go down and only got irritated when the doc's warned me about it. I guess I thought there was no bottom floor to what my lung numbers could be. I feel like the way I am now reminds me that other people do what I do, and that I need to do it for a REAL reason.. to put off transplant, and thats why I feel its not wrong.

Its such a fine balance, and that's my point. How is it that I can manage "pretending" to be into trivial things and feel free and then go to the grocery store and be scared for my life when my cashier has a cold. How can I enjoy my marriage when I start thinking about how great it would be if we could start a family before we're 30 and then remember what that will take.. CF is so so present everywhere it seems. I'm NOT ok with dying young. I'm barely ok with transplant. I'm stuck in regret about my thoughtless CF past. The attitude of 'this is the only body/life we have, so enjoy it' is hard to swallow at 27. Maybe its how I was brought up that makes me still feel like I'm owed the mindset of being a normal healthy human being, who "coughs occasionally and does meds". Whatever it is, its immobilizing me for the moment. I want my ignorant hopes back.