The 29th of May. Last night I tried lorazepam and even that didn't work. I don't know what time I did fall asleep, but it was on and off until twenty to eleven. Kate came to flush my line but Mommy explained the situation and they let me sleep, and she'll come back next week. I've still been knackered all day.

I got on the scales to see how much damage all this coughing had done to my weight - it makes my heart rate rise to over 160 each time I have a fit, and I'm back down to nearly 7 1/2 stone which is not very good. It doesn't help that I don't have much of an appetite and my stomach's too small to handle a great deal anyway.

I've written a blog post and painted my nails - such excitement. I've got very little to say, just that I think I've coughed slightly less today? If would be nice to think this are improving.

The 30th of May.

Still barely any sleep. I'm trying lorazepam again tonight, maybe 3mg instead of 2. I remember being in hospital and taking 4 because the coughing was so awful. We'll see.

So yes, today has just been more of the same. I read the paper and sent some shoes back to ASOS (too big), but that is the only difference. I still have no voice - I'm so exhausted. I just spend the days waiting for them to be over, so I can be another day closer to being better. Despite how shitty my normal breathing is, it's better than this. I don't usually get totally out of breath walking to Grandma's room and back. I find coughs and colds so much worse than actual vomiting. At least after throwing up, one feels better, but viruses are just horrible, persistent bastards that just keep on beating me down until they finally bugger off, and I have to spend a week recovering. Agh.