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pegkerrI am absolutely furious with my own body.
For the most part, we get on pretty well. Usually. I'm pretty healthy, and although I'm noticing the effects of aging, I keep myself in rather good shape, if I do say so myself. I never had any serious body-acceptance issues. I managed to get pregnant pretty much when I wanted to do so. I've never had any serious medical problems. And in return, I don't piss my body off very often. I don't make it a habit to go out and get drunk, I eat healthy, I get enough sleep, I'm diligent about exercise.
There is something just base-level survival about being able to breathe, and I am livid that my lungs are not willing to cooperate with something that I need to stay fricking alive. That I usually manage every day without even thinking about it. But for the last four days, I can't breathe without going into paroxysms of coughing that tears at my throat and hurts my ribs and brings me to the verge of vomiting. Hundreds of times an hour. I just want to backhand my own body into next week for being so uncooperative. Which is really stupid when you think about it. I can't get anything accomplished; I can barely think.
Not sure if I'm going in to work tomorrow. If I go, I'm sure as hell not biking. I couldn't even walk down the block to the National Night Out gathering for root beer floats tonight without leaning heavily on Rob's arm.
Just f*cking breathe without choking to death, goddamn you.
For the most part, we get on pretty well. Usually. I'm pretty healthy, and although I'm noticing the effects of aging, I keep myself in rather good shape, if I do say so myself. I never had any serious body-acceptance issues. I managed to get pregnant pretty much when I wanted to do so. I've never had any serious medical problems. And in return, I don't piss my body off very often. I don't make it a habit to go out and get drunk, I eat healthy, I get enough sleep, I'm diligent about exercise.
There is something just base-level survival about being able to breathe, and I am livid that my lungs are not willing to cooperate with something that I need to stay fricking alive. That I usually manage every day without even thinking about it. But for the last four days, I can't breathe without going into paroxysms of coughing that tears at my throat and hurts my ribs and brings me to the verge of vomiting. Hundreds of times an hour. I just want to backhand my own body into next week for being so uncooperative. Which is really stupid when you think about it. I can't get anything accomplished; I can barely think.
Not sure if I'm going in to work tomorrow. If I go, I'm sure as hell not biking. I couldn't even walk down the block to the National Night Out gathering for root beer floats tonight without leaning heavily on Rob's arm.
Just f*cking breathe without choking to death, goddamn you.
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Date: 2008-08-06 04:14 pm (UTC)The doctor wound up giving me these superpills that looked like little yellow bath beads. They numbed my lungs (seriously) and I could breathe properly until the pills wore off. No coughing or anything. They did make me a little sleepy, but it was worth it. Maybe your doctor could give you something similar?