It really has been a year...

I had this post all ready to share. I started it off saying: It has been a year...A post about how everything started and where I tried to explain that it feels a bit like someone took my life, tossed it in the air, gave it a good spin and added a few extras.
But then I deleted it.

I felt more like saying: I think I have a déjà-vu and I don't like it.

Well but realized that wouldn't work either as it was real and actually happening. I was there where everything started a year ago...In hospital. It was like it was starting all over again, even though it never really had stopped.

The evening before I got admitted I had a bad, scary asthma attack. It was a sharp one. Started coughing and just seconds later I was in a full blown attack. Was lying on my parent’s bed with my laptop on my tummy and chatting to a friend when it happened. Didn't even manage to get my blue reliever inhaler. So there I was now sitting on the floor barely moving air in and out of my lungs. My heart was beating so fast I expected it to stop every second. My parents came rushing in the room with my nebulizer and nasal cannula. Even though I knew my nebulized bronchodilator was the only thing that would get me out of the worst part of the attack, I kept pushing the mask, my Mum was holding in front of my face away. I kept telling myself: "Breathe Emily! You are going to be ok. No, you aren't going to pass out, you are going to be just fine." Don't give up, you've got to push through this." Slowly but surely it got better. I was keeping my nebulizer mask on my face and I was able to relax my respiratory muscles a bit. My breathing started slowing down and I was actually getting air in my lungs.  But I'm going to be completely honest I had a minute or two where I thought I wasn't going to make it.

I don't think I've ever gone downhill so fast. It was like a big smack in the face and there wasn't much I could do to stop it from getting worse.
The next morning I knew there was no way around hospital but actually accepting that I needed help was a different story.
I was absolutely miserable, frustrated and tired. Plus annoyed that my lungs were just being selfish idiots.  

And as always I pretended everything was just fine, when it really wasn't. And then it just suddenly hit me. It really had been a year...
So instead of posting that post, I ended up wanting to discharge myself at stupid o'clock. Well and that wasn't happening. I knew it wasn't. But I was determined to make it happen, even though I really didn't know how. While I was planning my escape, I went to the bathroom and washed my hair, without having a towel. Which was a particularly clever move as I had a fever earlier. Dripping wet I changed into fresh clothes and dried my hair with a spare T-shirt - Again, really not clever.
Now I was soaking wet and just as unhappy as before.

Actually, there was absolutely nothing anyone could have done to make me feel better. Not even make it all better cuddles from my Mummy were helping. Eventually, my Mum did manage to calm me down and was able to go home.
But dear nurse, telling me there was no need for me to get so upset will make me feel angry. It's entirely up to me to decide when I had enough.

The next morning I still was far away from being a happy camper but the doctors promised me they only were keeping me for as long as really necessary.
And even though I knew I had to be in hospital to keep me safe and make me better, I hated every single second. It just makes me feel sick when I think about how much time I have spent away from home the last 12 months.

But if I look back on everything that has happened and I manage to look past all the scary and frustrating moments...I really can say: It hasn't all been bad!
It has been a challenging and difficult time but I have learned so many things, I wouldn't have otherwise.
And I do think I am lucky in a way. I've not had to go through this alone. I've had my family and friends right by my side the whole time.