Little.

The talk is about transplant now, my lung function was 25 yesterday. My first blow was a 22 which totaled a remarkable 0.69 liters. I hyperventilated for a few seconds, the words "oh my god" escaping my lips a few times. I managed not to cry and keep trying for a better number.

A part of me is still in denial, those aren't my numbers. Right now I'm frightened. I don't want to die, I really really don't. I know this is going to sound horrible, but I was hoping to suffer first. I was hoping to have a few months of "man, I can't stand this anymore" and then I would feel like a transplant would set me free. Right now? It doesn't feel that way. I feel short changed, like I could still get better and to get a new pair of lungs would be wasteful and would only give me a whole new set of problems.

Lots of things happening now, my CRP (inflammation marker in the blood) is coming down but my need for oxygen is staying the same. My oxygen saturation is 81 while sitting without oxygen, and we need that to be higher. Right now I cant walk more than 20 meters, and we haven't attempted more. This is shit.

Steroids, another antibiotic and a talk with the head lung doctor. This sucks. This is shit.