Well it got worse: Increasing shortness of breath and temps of 104 degrees sent me back to the Horspital emergently. It's an uneasy thing, not being able to breath...I didn't exactly see the light, but I was certainly aware that I was circling the drain.

Diagnosis: Pulmonary Effusion. Seems the clot buster turned the blood clot in my lungs into a stew that settled in my Pleural space.

Sooooo, let's try a chest tube! *&^^%$%& !! Chest tubes hurt like you don't want to know. Chest tube isn't really helping by day 2 so the Pulmo Doc says I need surgery, which I consent to. Fark, I just want to breath man!!

I wake up from surgery with not one, not two, but three chest tubes and the kind of pain that makes you not want to survive so much. I had a PCA loaded up with Morphine, but there is not enough Morphine on this planet to quell the pain left over from fargin' lung surgery.

This is not the kind of outcome that I was hoping for. Yeah, yeah, I'm alive and should be grateful...Blah, blah, blah. Fark that, I want to ride my bike. The wather here has been marvelous lately.

So here I am almost four weeks post surgery. The pain is getting a little better, although is still a major deal. I'm walking with a cane to help steady myself and assist me when I tire out. Coughing/sneezing are evil pain inducing abdominal contractions that leave me a crying mess.

This is pointless, I'm just *****ing because I need to *****. I'm bored, lonely, stir crazy, and I'm slowly wasting away. I've lost 30 pounds of mostly muscle.

If you've made it this far, thanks for letting me get this off of my chest. If a mod thinks this is a waste of bandwidth please feel free to delete this post. It wont matter.