This one I'm solid on. The year was 2014, and yet again I was sick. Sick, a lot more sick.
The month I believe was July/August, and I was not faring well. I went a while coughing, up until the point when I struggled to breath correctly.
I remember going bowling with my parents, and simply walking up to the lane to throw my ball caused me to be out of breath. Climbing the flight of stairs in my house to my bedroom winded me. I was sick. There was no question. I have no idea when, but we made our way to the doctor, where they prescribed me antibiotics to fight off my illness. Later I found out I had had bronchitis and early pneumonia.
I don't remember much, but I know I had tough time then. Struggling to breath is the worst: Every minute feels like you are suffocating. This is what I felt for several weeks. Sleeping was difficult, as I couldn't position myself in a way that I was comfortable and could breath correctly.
I'm so glad to have passed those moments, but I had no clue of the tumult headed my way.
YOU ARE READING
Diagnosis
Non-FictionThis is, well, my story. It's all true and I'm not sure why I want to share, but I do, and I hope you can get something out of it, love. Please don't judge, or compare, this is just me living. The ups and downs and everything in between.
