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Documenting not dying since October 2013.

The 14th & 15th; My lungs were full of dust.

The 14th & 15th; My lungs were full of dust.

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The 14th of October.  Wargh so cold. I had a great dream about tiny bunnies wearing top hats and tails while people were playing croquet, and was very reluctant to wake up and get out of bed. 

This morning I wrote up a blog post and was very conscious about my higher than-usual heart rate. It did eventually settle, but it took a couple of hours. Nothing I can attribute it to, just got to watch out for it. 

After lunch, I went with Mommy to pick up Grandma from church lunch, and after taking her back home, she took me to the gym. It was starting to rain when we arrived, and I didn't want to wait in the cold for someone to let me in. Spurred on by my reasonable experience with the stairs at the Glee, I thought I'd try to climb the two flights to that gym. And I didn't feel like dying at the top! I haven't tried the stairs since I first joined, and it was awful then - couldn't breathe, couldn't speak.

I didn't get everything I wanted done because there was always a particular man on the machines I wanted, he was everywhere, like a plague. So I ended up skipping some bits and leaving about half an hour earlier than I normally would, which was good timing as the boy who likes to look at his belly had appeared. 

Trying to decide where I want to go to eat for my birthday. I'll be 25, an age no one expected me to reach. Where do I go?

The 15th of October. 

Today is two years since I wrote a blog post about my imminent death. Apparently not so imminent. It's weird, sometimes I almost feel bad for not having died yet, like I somehow misled people, but it is all what was told to me at the time, and I'm just really lucky that the superbug hasn't been reactivated, and that I am still here. I don't know how, I'm just happy that I am. Most of the time. 

I didn't exactly spend the day celebrating though. I have been crocheting and tidying. I have made three mini-mittens, trying to work out the right size for a one year old. I have come to the conclusion that I need Elle to measure Luna's hands, then I can be sure. 

My tidying was to deal with all the shoes/books/crap in front of my bedroom window that were making it hard to close the curtains. Ninety minutes of sitting on the floor, sorting stuff out, putting things away. I've realised I have way too many shoes that I don't wear and need to go to a charity shop or on eBay or something. So many books too! I am awful. When I was finished, my lungs were full of dust, meaning I should probably do it more often. 

I got a phone call from Lynn, current fosterer of the N kitties, and the plan is that she will be bringing the four (FOUR!) of them on Saturday evening or Sunday, depending on what time she gets home from a course she's doing. 

The 16th & 17th; Bloody lung disease.

The 12th & 13th; The saga is over.

The 12th & 13th; The saga is over.