Exhausted but upright anyways.

 I am working with a sleep clinic that posts their results in a file that I and my care team can read together. I am not expert on sleep apnea but I suspect that the doctor who runs the clinic is going to have some things to say that I don't want to hear. Like that I have some form of sleep apnea and that one night of the two night test, I did stop breathing. I'm trying to steel myself for this potential but it is as vague and intangible as the air itself. I can not grasp a handful of the wind and put it in my chest.

Looking at the reports surrounding the pneumonia stuff, I really hope that this damn business starts to clear up. Otherwise, I might have a real problem on my hands. I am frustrated and tired. I can't sleep well. I can't breathe well. I am having difficulty coughing up the gunk in my chest because I can't breathe well. I don't know what the medical solution is but around the end of next month I get another chest x-ray and find out if my general practitioner sees that nothing's changed. 

If there is scarring in my lungs I don't have any idea where it could have come from. I was born a preemie and I had breathing difficulties when I was itty-bitty. I had asthma but my lovely parents couldn't be bothered to make sure it got treated and regularly had me doing things that triggered what I now know to be asthma attacks. Bonus points here, because they smoked like chimneys and the white walls of their house were a tacky yellow by the time I was old enough to tell colors. 

Yes, I argued with my parents that the walls were not white like the paper in my books. That went over like a lead balloon. It wasn't too long after that I was getting exposed to asthma triggers and being left gasping for breath as my parents told me to toughen up as I hurt while breathing.

The sleep thing is awful. I have nightmares every night of something horrible. Either it's a flashback thrown into a blender with Salvadore Dali's art style or classic staircase wit where I have screaming arguments with my parents for accusing me of being a drug addict. They started that at ten. I didn't have access to drugs. We lived in the middle of nowhere and the closest thing to a drug dealer in our neighborhood was dairy cows. Because we all know the intoxicating effects of whole milk, right?