Breathin' easy(er)

I generally have a general dislike for waiting rooms in general. However, on Friday, when I was still gasping, Van dragged me back to the pulminologist, and I giggled while waiting for the umpteenth xray. An 80 plus year old couple came in. The wife decided that she was going to read the ENTIRE medical history questionnaire to her vision-impaired husband. "DO YOU HAVE DIABETES?", she belted out. That started me laughing under my breath, and patted Van hoping to reach 80 with him and be so cute. "DO YOU HAVE ANY KIDNEY PROBLEMS?" "DO YOU HAVE LIVER DISEASE?" "DO YOU HAVE ANY METAL IMPLANTS?" I was about to loose it while Van gave me a slightly worried grin. "DO YOU HAVE AN I.U.D.?" At this point, I'm intentionally holding my breath to keep from bursting, and I excused myself while she was asking, "DO YOU HAVE ANY BODY PIERCINGS?" The lung doctor continued with his diagnosis of pneumonia with slow healing because of my immunocompromisabilityinmyself. All of the billions of send-off tests came back normal. I took a breathing treatment as part of my breathing test, and it didn't make a difference. Van and the doc sextupled (6 times?) my steroid, and booked me with a GVHD lung specialist in Big D just in case we're missing something, which we are not. Before I got home, I was breathing without the tank that I was dragging around and ready for a trip to Sonic for a DP float. By the time I got home after running a couple of errands, I was able to help a little with kiddos, and I was grinning in my leisurely bath. Before, my non-portable oxygen tank wouldn't get to the bathtub, so my choices were to quickly pant through a bath or have to stand in the shower which was even more difficult. Thank you, Jesus. The rapidity of the change was so extreme, that there was no medical explanation. I had not responded to the breathing treatments in the hospital (four a day!) and they actually made me so sick that I discontinued them, so there is no reason to think that it was just slow acting in me. The steroids would not have had time to take effect. I was so pleased that I stayed up ordering a mother's day present. Today, Van carted me to two baseball games and set up a chair in the shade (Cade played short stop and got 3 outs!) (Zane had a wonderful time conversing with the first base coach...and he played well.), and Mom took me to our youth group's garage sale. My mom bought a rock tumbler for Carly. Most of my family speaks love to one another in the form of pretty rocks. I scored two handsome quilts and a nice-sized rug for the boy's new room. Someone was very generous in donating this top of the line totally cute work truck/puppy decor. I thought it was time given that the boys' toes stick out of their baby blankets, and they have to stack them in a certain way so that they are enclosed. Somehow, I don't see them giving up the tiny blacnkets, though, especially those that are named. "Pretty blanket" and "Thomas" still have a few years to go. Maybe Cade will at least give his sister's pink fuzzy blanket to her now that she fits into it better and he has an alternative. The kids helped me order look-alikes of the special stuffed animals that have gone missing in the last few weeks. If a person saw the overflow in their room from stuffed animals, they would sign me up for "Hoarders" on tv, but after "baby jaguar" was not lost but "went to the hospital to get her bone marrow tested" I couldn't help it. Ouch. I was willing to go buy a real pony after that one. I got zonked around 5:00pm today, and I have been used to needing a nap by 8:00am, no kidding. I am so very thankful. Mom is amazing. She feeds us, does the laundry and keeps everybody occupied and happy. She's perfected smoothies for me--my main source of calories and protein. Well done. Kids are happy. They are enjoying baseball and enjoying their cousin being here. Van got them a kiddie pool with a slide for the back yard. We were avoiding buying one this year because no buyer wants to see it, but they sure do enjoy it on a hot day. All four were crammed in there taking turns on the tiny slide. We just screamed, "Don't come in the house!" when they neared the door for an hour or so and then finally let them in for towels. Rumor has it that my sister and her remaining two kids will come for a visit to unkidnap her middle child. I'm looking forward to seeing her. Maybe by the time that she gets here, I can release my Mom. Dad went back to Utopia to catch up and open the mail, but I figure he'll come give her eventually. The fried chicken that he picked up in Bandera can only last for so long. (And, of course, she is his favorite side-kick.) My eye that had surgery is healing nicely, but it still looks like I've been in a brawl with all the bruises from the hospital on my arms and my "shiner". My friend says just to tell people that I was the victor, and it will be okay. I don't know if Van will want me to go to church tomorrow because of my immunocompromisabilityinmyself, so we'll see. I can't figure out where the spellcheck is on this new format (blast it!), and the screen is still a bit furry to me, so I have a decent excuse for any typos.