The Last Time

Because of an unidentified pathogen that has been plaguing me since December, I can't relax. At the moment I'm supposed to be studying for my exam tomorrow (20% of my module grade) and on Thursday (30%) but all I can do is worry. Usually when I'm like this I go to sleep, but I'm afraid to go to sleep. So I'm trying to wring a blog entry out of myself to see if I can feel better after.

General information: KR is a 22-year old medical student with a city address in Ermita, Manila.
CC: 3-pillow orthopnea and obstructive sleep apnea
HPI: 3 wk PTA, unproductive cough thought to be due to acid reflux.
2 wk PTA unproductive cough had become productive. The patient consulted in a hospital in Laguna and was prescribed Cefuroxime and erdosteine.
1 wk PTA symptoms unrelieved and seem to be worsening. Episodes of obstructive sleep apnea were almost nightly.
5 days PTA patient consulted with two doctor friends and was advised to take Azithromycin.
3 days PTA symptoms appeared to be worsening. The patient consulted at Manila Doctors Hospital and was prescribed Moxifloxacin, as well as a decongestant and salbutamol via nebulizer 2-3 times a day. The nebulizing, if done before bedtime, appeared to prevent episodes of sleep apnea.
1 day PTA the patient left her nebulizer in Laguna, instead using an inhaler as a substitute. Consequently she experienced another episode of apnea. By this time the patient also experienced right lumbar muscle pain and worsening pulmonary function, resorting to mouth-breathing.

Diagnosis: ???
Management: ???

It looks so clean put like this, and it doesn't include the fact that I have to worry about exams in renal, and that the nebulizer doesn't belong to me so I couldn't bring it to Manila, and that the episodes of apnea are terribly frightening. I always thought, Catholic that I am, that I would face death with equanimity: that the prospect of it would bring me no fear. But now I'm afraid every day that, when I go to bed, it will be for the last time. It isn't pain that frightens me exactly. There's just something about being unable to breathe that knocks all the common sense out of you and drives you into a panic. My roommate, whom I love, makes fun of me for it, in her oblique mocking way; when I'm having an episode I jump out of bed, stomp around and roll around on the floor, crying while wheezing and really frightened. I suppose I must look funny. But I can't laugh about it yet. It's not funny to me. I'm afraid.

I guess all I really want is spatium vere paenitentiae. Time for true contrition. When I'm rolling around the floor gasping for breath, thinking, is this really it? Am I going to die?, all I can think about is getting air, and for some reason, I cannot think about making acts of contrition in my mind, or of the assurance that sin is the only disaster--not death, nor illness, nor misfortune.

I'm scared.