We Never Run Out and There's No Escape

 

I'm having some breathing issues post MRI. It's not terrible (I don't think I'm altered to where I can't gauge it accurately, but it's possible I'm overly optimistic), but I'm uncomfortable.

Okay. After writing that, my slug brain finally offered the idea to check the pulse ox. Oxygen is fine, but down, on the edge of not fine. The dog bark cough is going strong. I'm drinking some hot tea at the moment. Heat helps, especially when the air is cold. After that, I'll suck down more albuterol and lay down for a while.

But first. Hi. I'm here to whine about medical things. You?

I slept really well though. For once. Did a lot of NSAIDs the last 24 hours to get the hip under control. However, I'm still pretty out of it from the steroids so I'm not feeling super alert and I can't catch my breath.

Medication #12 seems to be failing the teen. We will likely have to travel to a specialty clinic elsewhere in the state.  

I'm having a hard time imagining any ability to generate the energy for travel right now. 

Truly, this should be the easiest problem to fix. It's common. The meds have a stellar track record and yet...nope.

I feel like I'm trapped in that fairytale with the bag that always has food in it, except my bag is just a forever supply of medical shit. Every time I reach in looking for actual sustenance, I pull out more bullshit instead.

My bag has the wrong mojo.