Freak Things Happen

So today Mandi and I were running around to doctors appointments, relaxing and, of course, observing MLK day the best that we could. Earlier in the day we had a fertility appointment to make sure that Mandi's eggs were still looking good and to go over how to give the shot that looks like a horse tranquilizer (I'm kidding, it's not that bad). We were also able to sit down with the doctor and go over some details about the whole process, which I'm sure we'll get into with you guys soon here on the blog. Just as a teaser though, stuff like how many eggs to fertilize, how many embryos to "put back" and what to do with the embryos we don't use at the moment. So as you can guess, it was quite the conversation, but we'll save it for another time.

Back to the part when we got back from the appointment. Wait a second, first let me set this up a bit. I've been feeling great. Mandi and I have been eating better. We've gotten back into the gym. We're getting back on track with exercise. I'm doing my treatments consistently and faithfully. I've noticed that my cough has decreased over the past couple weeks and my mucus has gotten lighter. All in all, no complaints, and I'm feeling pretty good. Now, I said all of that to say, today I coughed up blood, and a lot of it.

It was the weirdest thing. We pulled into our garage and just as I was getting out of the car, I felt it. It's a certain rattle that we get in our chest just before the blood comes up to play (you CFers know what I'm talking about). I walked out of the garage, coughed and spit. Sure enough. Bright. Red. Blood. I immediately made a dash for the bathroom sink because I didn't want to stain my rocks in the front yard! :) I coughed and coughed and coughed, each time bringing up the good stuff. There are different kind of coughing up blood episodes, those that just make your mucus a bit red and those that look like a murder scene. With each cough, blood splattered into the sink, and I'll I could do was hope that my aim was good. About 5 minutes and 1/2 cup of pure blood later, it stopped.

Ok, now what's the point? The point is, stuff happens. Stuff happens that we can't explain. Good stuff happens. Bad stuff happens. Life would certainly be a lot easier if we could explain everything, but it'd also be pretty boring. In this CF life, unexplained stuff can happen often. I think the key though is not what happens, but how we react. I didn't panic. I didn't get mad. I didn't stress out. Stuff happens. Stuff happens and we move on. Sure, I adjusted my treatment regiment today to try to prevent more blood, but other than that, I wake up tomorrow and I move on. I'll make sure to get four treatments in. I'll make sure to pay close attention to what my lungs are saying. I'll let my doctor know what's up on Wednesday when I have my (drug trial) appointment. Other than that, I do nothing different. I've been good lately about doing what I have to do to kick some CF booty. Faithful with my treatments. Faithful with exercise. Freaky stuff can still happen.

So I move on.