Alone with my Mind

I had my check-up with the Lung Doctor Man this week. 

I forced myself to push a little harder this week so I could tell him I was exercising with a clear(ish) conscience. I didn't exercise at all for seven weeks across May-June because of how sick I was. Since hospital, I'd only been doing 20-30 minutes of step aerobics once or twice a week, but I knew that wouldn't classify as 'exercise' for the Lung Doctor Man (who's previously stated I should be using a treadmill or exercise bike for an hour a day).

So in the week leading up to his appointment, I managed 20 minutes on Wednesday, 30 on Thursday, 90 on Sunday, and 60 mins in a 'last-chance' session that I barely squished in before the appointment (and another 30 minutes afterwards). When he asked me if I was exercising, I just nodded and said "Yep". I was too nervous to say much else. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to tell him my dietician still wants me resting. He didn't push the matter for once, thank god.

Things were going okay, until he decided to weigh me. He doesn't normally weigh me. I was weighed by his assistant at my first appointment, blind, but ever since he's been fine with me saying "It's mostly the same", because it's not like I've gained or lost any hugely significant amount. But not this time. My instant reaction was to run when he tried to weigh me, except for the fact I still needed tests done, so I stuck it out. 

"Okay, but I'm getting on backwards because I don't look at the number."

I don't know if I should've explained more clearly or spoken louder or what, because after I stepped on the scales, he decided to announce the ever-disgusting number.
"Well, gee, thanks for that!" - the most polite thing I could think to say
"You didn't want to know?"
"...why do you think I got on backwards?!"

Sigh. Well, I guess he isn't to know these things if he hasn't had ED patients before. Next time I'll be sure not to eat or drink before the appointment. And he'll be sure not to tell me the number. 

My chest is still very congested and irritated, but not as bad as it was, obviously. My spirometery results were 2.4/3.4, which means I have a total lung capacity of 3.4 liters and can exhale 2.4L in the first second. This put me somewhere around 60% of expected capacity (4.1/5.0 - and I should be able to get out more in the first second). Back in November, at my last appointment, I read 3.5/4.0. I dread to think what the tests would say if they were done during the first few days of my admission.

I told him I've been smoking around 30 cigarettes a day (in reality it's slightly more, but it's still the least I've smoked for months), plus several grams of the other stuff. The cigarettes will inevitably increase as the grams decrease. "Still too much", he said. As if I don't know.

I also saw my GP quickly with the clinic nurse on Wednesday. Some of my cuts are infected so I'm back on antibiotics for another week or two (just as I got off the damn things). She wanted me to go back today, but mum's away and my brother's working and I can't leave the house and walk the 450m to get to the safety of the clinic. So next week I see her on Monday to check them, then again for my proper appointment on Thursday (with the dietician and mental health nurse in between). 

I've been home alone the past few days. Mum went away on Wednesday morning, and I quickly found myself in a panic with my mood plummeting. Feeling unsafe, I ended up impulsively downing four lorazepam and spent the day glued to the couch. Over the next two days, I watched The Dead Poets Society, Harry Potter, Starving in Suburbia, Pokemon and Wall-E, even if I couldn't concentrate. Anything to try to distract myself. I want to sew and do things. I just... can't.

I don't mind being home alone for the most part. I savor the lack of structured meals, no pressure, without a care about the time on the clock. Since I'm on antibiotics, I have needed to keep up a rough three 'meals'. I'm still being horrifically lazy and not preparing much real food. My intake's been anywhere between 500-1,000 since I left hospital, though the last two days home alone have been closer to 400, mostly made up of strawberry-yoghurt-milk smoothies, cheese and crackers, apples, popcorn, chicken noodle soup, plain biscuits... I just don't care enough to prepare proper food right now.

Sorry my posts are getting longer and further apart. Everything's just too hard right now.

Selfies after my check-up because it was the first time I did the whole 'real clothes and makeup' thing for a while. I really need to get back to sewing and expand my wardrobe. Apparently I forgot to smile.

xxBella