[This all started b/c I knocked over the thing of prenisolone tablets and they scattered everywhere. Apparently a few landed on the floor and I never noticed them. I got told there was about 7 in total happily rolling across the kitchen floor till someone picked them up and threw them out. And it resulted in this conversation...]
Dad: 'What about the cat? It'd eat the steroids' Me: 'We don't have a cat' Dad: 'Yeah but what if we did? I'd be all fat and would never stop eating b/c of the steroids it eats off the floor when you drop them and probably have a sore stomach from all the creon you drop too' Me: 'We could call it 'Rocky', after the movie. It'd so be the bully of the street' Dad: 'It really would.' Me: 'Hang on, a cat that eats everything... ha, it'd be a real life Garfield' Both: *find this hilarious and laugh for ages*
I do actually question the sanity of my family.
This is not something I'd ever thought tho. I mean, I'm clumsy as hell, of course I drop my meds all over the bloody floor. And I drop them without realising, which is how they end up being chucked by someone else. But I've never considered maybe it's a good idea that we don't have pets. B/c a hulked out cat is not what you need. No matter how much fun you'd have scaring the ever living shit out of everyone who walks into your house.
On the other hand, pred is being a diligent little drug and increasing my appetite. I'm pretty sure the reason I was actually originally put on it was b/c of pleurisy and ABPA. Haven't noticed any flare ups on the ABPA side, and pleurisy just ain't pleurisy any more. I've come to decide that the fact that my lungs hurt like a bitch some days at the worst looking areas on my Xray are just from the sheer amount of scar tissue. Lung damage, you're a bitch.
I'll be at hosp for a check up on weds after next, so I'll be able to see if I've actually continued to weigh the most I ever have (I'm boasting, yes, but at the same time 45kg isn't a weight to be too happy about when you're supposed to weigh more than that).
I've been taking loads of photos b/c the weathers finally gotten nice. I will put a few on the blog now and again but they're all on the Flickr page and most (but not all) end up on my facebook page too, just for the sheer hell of it (and yeah, I do actually love it when friends have told me they've seen my photos and think they're good and that I'd do really well as a photographer). So, yeah, I wander off to where ever I choose at that point and take loads of photos, completely zoning out and ending up walking a fair bit. Which means my fitness level will hopefully increase just like the physio wanted (apparently walking about 390ish metres and getting to the level of breathlessness I was at for my 6 minute walk test doesn't really match up with my lung function. My lungs have one of my strong traits of hating to abide by rules or guidelines).
Hmm nothing else to say for now. I know I haven't properly blogged in a while, and that blog about Saturday will probably be a total one off as I rarely go out! My social life doesn't match up to that of an average 18yr old, but with all the meds we take and occasional drinking, my liver probably does.
Dad: 'What about the cat? It'd eat the steroids'
Me: 'We don't have a cat'
Dad: 'Yeah but what if we did? I'd be all fat and would never stop eating b/c of the steroids it eats off the floor when you drop them and probably have a sore stomach from all the creon you drop too'
Me: 'We could call it 'Rocky', after the movie. It'd so be the bully of the street'
Dad: 'It really would.'
Me: 'Hang on, a cat that eats everything... ha, it'd be a real life Garfield'
Both: *find this hilarious and laugh for ages*
I do actually question the sanity of my family.
This is not something I'd ever thought tho. I mean, I'm clumsy as hell, of course I drop my meds all over the bloody floor. And I drop them without realising, which is how they end up being chucked by someone else. But I've never considered maybe it's a good idea that we don't have pets. B/c a hulked out cat is not what you need. No matter how much fun you'd have scaring the ever living shit out of everyone who walks into your house.
On the other hand, pred is being a diligent little drug and increasing my appetite. I'm pretty sure the reason I was actually originally put on it was b/c of pleurisy and ABPA. Haven't noticed any flare ups on the ABPA side, and pleurisy just ain't pleurisy any more. I've come to decide that the fact that my lungs hurt like a bitch some days at the worst looking areas on my Xray are just from the sheer amount of scar tissue. Lung damage, you're a bitch.
I'll be at hosp for a check up on weds after next, so I'll be able to see if I've actually continued to weigh the most I ever have (I'm boasting, yes, but at the same time 45kg isn't a weight to be too happy about when you're supposed to weigh more than that).
I've been taking loads of photos b/c the weathers finally gotten nice. I will put a few on the blog now and again but they're all on the Flickr page and most (but not all) end up on my facebook page too, just for the sheer hell of it (and yeah, I do actually love it when friends have told me they've seen my photos and think they're good and that I'd do really well as a photographer). So, yeah, I wander off to where ever I choose at that point and take loads of photos, completely zoning out and ending up walking a fair bit. Which means my fitness level will hopefully increase just like the physio wanted (apparently walking about 390ish metres and getting to the level of breathlessness I was at for my 6 minute walk test doesn't really match up with my lung function. My lungs have one of my strong traits of hating to abide by rules or guidelines).
Hmm nothing else to say for now. I know I haven't properly blogged in a while, and that blog about Saturday will probably be a total one off as I rarely go out! My social life doesn't match up to that of an average 18yr old, but with all the meds we take and occasional drinking, my liver probably does.