I Am Broken

It’s true. I feel broken.
It happened when I went for my clinic appointment in the week. I had been feeling so well lately that I thought things would be ok. But one thing I will never learn is that Cystic Fibrosis has the tendency to attack when it bloody well feels like it. Of all the days for my lungs to play up, it was that morning I had to travel 45 minutes to Cardiff to see the CF team. Brilliant.

I felt absolutely fine the day before, but the Tuesday morning I woke up and I felt short of breath and couldn’t take a deep breath without feeling the need to cough. There was no constant cough or anything, just shortness of breath. Very unlike me when I feel reasonably well in myself.
So the time came for me to do my lung function test. I’d already put pressure on myself cause I done a new personal best a few months before. After I done my three blows (less of the dirty thinking people!) I looked at my results – my lung function was down. Shit. Not by a huge amount, but it had still decreased.

In a matter of seconds I felt I’d crashed down to earth with a bump. My head had completely gone and I couldn't think straight. I walked out of the hospital in a daze, it was a complete shock to the system. I came home from Cardiff that lunch time feeling deflated and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything.


I felt like a failure.


The hard work of all the vigorous workouts in the gym and at home on the treadmill, it felt like a waste of time. I started to question was all this really all worth it?
Cystic Fibrosis is a progressive illness, it’s not going to go away or get any better, so what was the point in working my arse off knowing this isn’t going to help as I get older? I want to stay strong and be strong, but sometimes I’ve been strong for too long and I just need to cry it out. Which I did, but even crying until you have red, puffy eyes doesn’t help massively.
When I have a bad appointment at the hospital, the rest of the day will consist of these thoughts and feeling down and not wanting to speak to anyone until the next day.
But this sort of ‘spell’ only lasts until the next morning. I woke up in a better mood, a more determined mood, a ‘I’m not going to let it bring me down’ mood!
Writing this was kind of like therapy, I felt much better and happier with myself. I know that CF will give me bad days, I just need to keep working hard so I can have the good days.
One lesson to be learnt - don't let one bad appointment make you feel like you're a failure, it's CF's fault, not yours.
Lucy xx

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