So bad that I'm struggling to do basic things. FFS.
Thankfully Tiger has been home. Not FFS.
I've been struggling with really silly, everyday things. FFS.
Last Wednesday I couldn't manage to put the umbrella up or down. FFS.
I kid you not. Tiger had to do it for me because I couldn't work it out. FFS.
Thursday I couldn't find Tigers yoghurt at the supermarket. FFS.
I walked up and down the yoghurt section for fifteen minutes and it wasn't there. FFS.
Tiger found it within a minute. FFS.
I've been taking my preventer and reliever but it's just not working. FFS.
I can't go any stronger on the preventer, I'm on the highest dose ones that are available. FFS.
I'm taking my reliever every few hours and yet I still can't breathe. FFS.
It's not a nice feeling. FFS.
Unsurprisingly I waited ages to go to the Dr. FFS.
I don't really see the point. FFS.
The options aren't ones that he or I are happy with. FFS.
He can put me on a pill that might work and is really expensive. FFS.
He can change my preventer to see if I react better to a different type of steroid or I can just ride it out. FFS.
It wasn't until I remember that the other option was a dose of steroids that I went to see him.
Steroids are wonderful, especially when Tiger is away. Not FFS.
They give me so much energy, it's like I'm superwoman. Not FFS.
I went to see him the day that Tiger went back to work and got myself a dose of steroids. Yay!
The FIL is in hospital again. FFS.
It's times like this that I wish we still lived in the city so that MIL could stay with us and we could go visit him every few days. FFS.
Fingers crossed he gets better and is home again soon.