I finally got real with my husband tonight. I broke down (I sure hope I don't have swollen eyes for work tomorrow... ) I've been holding back what scares me about this whole thing. What scares me the most is not being the person he fell in love with. I feel that he fell in love with a vibrant, independent, happy person. I told him that right now I wish I were single and had not brought him into this mess. He hasn't been with me long enough to have to deal with *this*. I want to give him a "get out of jail free" card. He won't take it. I pray that I don't push it.

One side of me knows that I'm just borrowing trouble. I mean, the doctor hasn't even talked to me yet. The other side of me is like a boy scout. Always prepared. I want to prepare my husband for what could happen. I want to prepare myself.

I think I've run through every scenario in my head. It doesn't help that his dad has emphysema and is hooked up to oxygen 24/7. It doesn't help that I see his dad struggling to just go from his car to our home. I am very familiar with this *thing*. I exchanged email messages with his dad today. I asked him how he found out about his disease. His came from smoking. I've never touched a cigarette in my life. Ok, once I did- but I didn't light it. I was cruising with my roomate and we thought it would look cool if we had cigs in our mouths. Silly 17 year old girls!

He told me he'd rather have the lung thing than the liver thing. I told him that I'd rather have the liver thing than the lung thing. I'm very familiar with with the liver thing. I've lived it for 20 years. I've experienced as much physical pain as I think one could possibly have. But at least I could breathe. I can't imagine not being able to breathe. It makes me claustrophobic thinking about it even now.

I remember being a little girl living in Los Angeles. The smog got to me so bad that I could only take short little breaths. I laid on the couch and worked very hard to breathe on those smoggy days. I can only imagine that this is what it'll feel like. I can still rememer it enough to know that I just don't want to go there. I don't want to live like that.

I've been having small panic attacks the last few days. I can't take a full breath when I have these panic attacks. This happens when I'm very stressed out. Yeah, I know I could alleviate the whole thing by allowing myself to put work second. I should have gone to the doctor on Tuesday.

Know what? I think I intentionally put this off. I need to quit being a work martyr. Part of me is avoiding the truth. One of my friends gave me an ostrich beanie baby one time. She said that it reminded her of me. I'm always burying my head in the sand. Maybe I was an ostrich when the nurse tried to schedule an appointment the next day.

Two more days. Breathe...

I am glad that my day is full of meetings tomorrow. It'll keep my mind off of things. I'm good at that. I had a therapist that told me that I have lots of boxes in my brain. Put *this* away in this box and pull *this* out of that box. That's how I cope. I guess living the life I've lived has been a gift in times like this. I've learned some great coping (or should I say ignoring?) skills.

It's late. My husband is asleep. I can't sleep. I wonder why.... I should at least try. Tomorrow will be a long day.