It's this holding pattern that is determining how high I go, how fast I can travel and how far away

[WCGreen]

from the safety of my self imposed teether that has started to reach down deep inside and so I feel constraint. Restricting constraint, can't breathe constraint, piss and moan about my plight constraint.

Not the easy boundaries we all impose upon ourselves simply be causes of the chooses we make whether consciously or not that make that reality smaller and more precises.

Like this idea of creating a blog about about my experience with COPED and how I handle C's delicate condition. I look in the mirror and see some braggadocios ass hole seeming to think the I have all the answers to the mysteries of life well, at least the mysteries of how how I get through a day, an hour or even that gasping minute with the air being wasted away on those who give little to no though about where that next breathe is coming from.

Fucking Danny Banadouchy or that sperm guy who spreads his seed at the drop of a hate.

Is this what a "blogger" signs up for? A chance at the kind of fame that will get an invite rom heff so we can swap O2 mases while this months Miley Cyrus look alike is explain her achy breaky heart over ad over again.

Now I just sound like one of those ci che ridden angry man or worse the delicate sensitive type who hides who he really is because he dare not admit that macho has almost nothing to do with him. And really, when it comes right down to it, how dare I pass judgment on how people handle this disease this condition that I must have done something wrong somewhere along the way to get "blessed" with. How anyone can think that struggling to breathe is blessed has some deep fucking issues that they better work out.

I do promise you this, I will never sing in some veranda in the high swiss mountains trying hard to persuade my man hood that it is okay to try and bed a Virginian fifteen year old novice keeping my ass hole kids in line while singing about a lonely fucking goatherd who looks like some genetic experiment gone crazy wrong and produces a cross between adolph Hitler and Mortimer sneed.

Seriously, what ego must I process to think that anything that I could write would have any lasting effect on a person crushed by the reality and weight of a COPED diagnosis.

Oh and by the way, my fucking lungs can't decide whether they want to behave like lungs or just give up the shift and let he blood flow.

[WCGreen]

1. Round 2, they tell me it will get better....

Believe you me it had to be said. I had to let anyone interested with COPD and how I contacted (contracted)with this particularly insidious condition could come along on a prep walk with me.

What I am going to offer to those who care to listen is how the explosion of rage and frustration comingle as they are tore asunder (I love throwing those good old-fashioned Bill Jennings triads in just for the kicks and snicks).

Two, or maybe more, things can happen, you might learn something about the disease and you might even be able to find out a way to emphasis and then cope! See how easy this stuff is suppose work

Don't forget to toss in your two, three four or even twenty-seven cents in on any discussion that might be going on at any given moment.

I think the first thing I had to get off my chest was to put out there why I felt the way I did, why I still felt this way after almost 30 years of living.

Yesterday might have scarred some people out there, me included, into getting sober before the fact,

However, what is that fact anyway.

All I know what is different from today than from yesterday is that I was having a devil of a time trying to get the old demon out of my body and out of my mind so I could actually sit down and write about stuff that might interfere with my coming t grips with what is happening to me.

Make no mistake about all of this.

So I'm here.

I don't know how long I can keep this up (oh yea, that pun WAS intended). Believe it or not, I have other stuff I want to get off my chest.TW, feel free to send ideas, favorite plans that went awry (the awryer the better)

Nevertheless, between last night (note to self, perhaps starting good rant while in the hospital isn't always the best jobs

[CaliforniaPeggy]

2. Now, THIS rant, post #2, this sounds like the Chris I know!

You get out of bed, and let us know you're still here, and by God, you're not going away! You have things to say and do, and you're going to get there.

Ranting in the hospital is a very good idea, IMHO anyway...and you know how humble I am...

Keeping us in the loop has been terrific, and has helped (me anyway) to be much less anxious...there was plenty of that to go around, believe you me.

Stay strong, my dear friend! Stay very strong...and when you're tired of doing it, then let us carry you back to your innate strength.

:hug:

[lizziegrace]

3. Hey

I know what lung problems are like, but not to the degree you do. I know I don't want to die watching my peak flow and saturation numbers plummeting while they intubate me.

I admire your candor, your determination and your desire to try and have a life with the constraints of COPD.

Sorry I wasn't more alert when you called. I wasn't feeling so great myself. I'm around this afternoon if you want to call and yes, I *will* make a trip up when you feel like company.

:hug:

Keep writing and keep talking.