Yesterday was Day 5 in the hospital.  It was a better day, actually.  My blood pressure came up, my cough got better, and I had more energy.  I went to sleep last night hoping I’d be out of the hospital soon.

 And then I woke up this morning. 

As soon as I sat up, I threw up all over my breakfast tray.  Then I started wheezing, and had to get respiratory therapy.  And then my blood pressure dropped and I had to get more I.V. fluids.  And then my nurse came in to do ‘chest physiotherapy,’ which involved her beating on my back so hard I felt like my teeth were going to fall out of my head.

And then the pulmonologist came in and told me that my pneumonia is getting still worse, in spite of five antibiotics, and he wants to schedule a bronchoscopy tomorrow.  A bronchoscopy involves sedating me, putting a scope into my lung, and taking biopsies of the sputum and lung tissue. 

After he left the room, I chided myself.  I should know better than to hope for better days.  I should’ve learned by now just to hang on for the ride.  Some days it’s too much to hope for things to improve; it takes all the faith I can muster to hope that I will survive.