Tired. Six hours after closing my eyes, I awaken, swing my legs over the side of the bed, plant my feet firmly and stand. I make my way to the kitchen where the coffee pot waits for my attention. Coffee in hand, I ambulate to the living room and sink into a corner of the sofa, drawing my feet up on the cushion and cover myself with the soft brown plaid lap blanket.
My usual hyper self has vanished. Instead of that usual burst of activity I enjoyed at one time, I find myself wanting to recline and drift back into sleep. Any activity, slight as it may be leaves me gasping for oxygen. I ignored this for months now until I finally gave up and made a doctors appointment. Friday I went for a complete blood workup and a chest xray. I'm now waiting on the results. I'm nervous and a bit frightened.
I'm a Registered Nurse and sometimes knowing too much is a bad thing. I can't enjoy blissful ignorance so I'll wait for confirmation on my suspicions.
I can only hope that I'm overly pessimistic.