there’s a little nook somewhere in the caverns of my right lung that always seems to be where the crud wants to live. any time i have a cystic fibrosis exacerbation that spot always sounds crackly and gross through a stethoscope, and is very apparent on x-rays and ct scans.

last wednesday i woke up and coughed and lo, that spot hurt. and then i was all like “well shit.”

and i don’t know what happened, but rather than my usual wait-it-out-to-see-if-it-develops-into-anything approach (aka waiting until i’ve gotten past the point of no return) i did a responsible cf adult thing and reached out to my doctor to see if i could schedule an appointment so he could take a listen to my lungs.

want to know what being responsible and proactive got me?


uh huh.


the doctor told me i could come for an appointment that afternoon, sure. “and bring a suitcase,” he said. and then i was all like, “well shit,” and then i ate a lot of pancakes and bacon. pancake therapy is the best therapy.*

here are a few bad things about being the hospital:

– the accommodations
– the doctors

sleeping in a hospital bed with hospital sheets and showering in a hospital shower gives me the heebie jeebies. other sick people have slept in that bed and they have showered in that shower. yes. i know. the linens are clean. i don’t care. it’s weird and i don’t like it. i bring my own pillow and sleep on top of the blankets. i bring my own towel and maybe i shower with my eyes closed BECAUSE IT’S WEIRD. also, hospital beds? worse than dorm beds. for real. i always have horrible sciatica flare-ups when i’m in the hospital, the kind with pain radiating from my tush all the way down to my kneecaps.

the doctors… oh, the doctors.

when you have cf and you’re at the hospital you are actually seen by no fewer than 500 doctors.

there are general hospitalists. they’re the docs who stay on the floor. there’s an intern and a resident and an attending. sometimes the hospitalists are great and sometimes a toddler could do their job more effectively. without fail, every morning at about 6:30 am, one of them comes into my room, wakes me up, and then asks, “HOW ARE YOU FEELING TODAY LEANN?!” and i just stare at them blankly because 1. they just woke me up and 2. THEY JUST WOKE ME UP and therefore the only feeling i have is anger.

there are the pulmonogists. not my regular cf pulmonologist. just the pulmonologists who are on call at the hospital on any given day. i don’t like them purely because they’re not my own doctor. and also because sometimes i really question how much they know about how hospitalizations with cf patients work.

there are the infectious disease doctors. these guys are totally badass. they’re always super knowledgable and they draw/take pictures of your germs for you. they’re the ones who study the cultures and make sure the medications are working. they’re also the ones who decide when you get to leave the hospital.

and then, finally, there’s my cf team. someone from the office stops by each day just to check on things.

that’s 4 groups of people.

the best part about being seen by four different groups of people is nothing. there is almost nothing good about this because nobody talks to each other. seriously. each team of doctors has a slightly different interpretation of why i’m in the hospital, what my lungs sound like, what tests i need, and so on.

it happens every time i’m in the hospital and yet it always blows my mind harder than the time before.

one full week in the hospital and then they finally let me go home. and then someone, somewhere made a stupid mistake and goofed on my at-home treatment orders. which, while stupid, was sort of nice because i got a full night’s sleep in my own bed. with my own sheets.

i’m stuck with at-home iv antibiotic (and probably pancake) therapy for a few weeks but i’m at home so it’s not so bad. ┬áplus, i feel better so i win!

in other news: i went to visit friends in washington dc and it was awesome. i re-connected with a college friend and it was awesome. i attended an annual family brunch and it was awesome. i’m traveling to chicago to visit more family and i’m certain it will be awesome.

i’ve watched so much hgtv over the last few weeks. all i want to do is buy a foreclosed house for $5 and remodel it head to toe. if you have a wall that needs sledgehammering or a backsplash that needs re-tiling or ikea furniture that needs assembly please please please HOOK. ME. UP.

i mean COME ON.

*iv antibiotics are actually a better therapy but they don’t taste like pancakes.
[image 1: lungs by hanecdote, image 2: my scandinavian home]