The 23rd of October.
We have oxygen at home again. So that’s fun. Last time we had to have this, I think it was post-flu? Igor offered me a hospital bed but I declined the offer. There’s nothing they can give me so it’s best for me to be at home and have oxygen.
The Zopiclone I had last night didn’t work, so I won’t bother tonight, and suspect I might be in for a severe lack of sleep and it’s just going to be grand. I was at hospital from nine until half four having blood, photopheresis, pharmacy and x-ray, then we went into town to get manuka honey then decided against it.
So I’m exhausted, coughing and trying ever so hard not to say “I wish I was dead” whenever someone asks me how I am.
The 24th of October.
Another day of feeling dreadful. The oxygen helps, and it moves stuff around, but I am so worn out. I don’t know how long I can keep this up for.
Carol came round today and I was not much for the chat so I just coughed while she and Mommy talked and I occasionally interjected.
I’m sorry I have literally nothing to say but I fee like shit and there is nothing else happening.