Home.

Well, I think the title says it all. I moved back home. It had been coming for a while, and I think I realised just what all had happened in the past year and realised what I'd lost. I've failed my GCSE's, my health's gone to shit, my house was in all honestly crap and I missed home. So I decided to leave. And once again being me, it was a quick decision. Was gone within a week. I really need to start thinking about things properly.

Getting home again was strange. It's weird going from having so much independance and being able to do whatever you want to living with parents again. But things have changed. Mum's a lot more understanding now of why I left, and has told me that she treated me like shit. And of course I broke down in tears at that. It's been a hard 10 years for both of us, but I think she's finally turning the corner and to be able to see my mum as happy as she is, is making me happy.

You would think getting home would sort my lungs out though? Right? Well ha. Pigs will fly. Was home 6 days and ended up in. But I didn't just do simple splatt that needs a few nebs and home. I did going to an MIU in Monaghan, then getting a doctor blue light transfer to Cavan Hospital, sitting in resus for 6 hours, transfer to ICU, Arterial Lines, CPAP and catheters. Then passing out when they brought the bloke who was the same age as James(who was in as well with withdrawals), in with the same thing and was in the same bay to ICU in cardiac arrest. Not fun. But hey. Home now. I'm on that many drugs now that I fecking rattle. But hey, thats part and parcel of having lung problems and there's people in worse states than me.

I'm gonna go have lunch now, so I'll come back to this another day :)