I wrote this last night.  When I did a read through it was so incoherent that I figured it best to have another look at it in the morning and clean it up.  This is the somewhat less incoherent version.

I felt really good today physically, still do this evening.  I have not been taking prednisone for a week. The feeling good is courtesy of my own body.  I have not felt this good since Boxing Day.  Feeling good does not give me more breath, but it does help me keep good breathing rhythm and pace.  When you feel good it's easier to remember to exhale with pursed lips and blow out for longer than your air intake.  You know if bending down to do this or lifting something up over your head requires breathing in or breathing out.  You breathe in air through your nose, you breathe out slowly with pursed lips, and with some force, as if you were blowing up a balloon.  On a really good day this all comes together without conscious effort.  I can walk up the 12 stairs from my basement without stopping, and arrive at the top fresh, no need to rest and recover my breath.  Nicole laughs at me and calls me "silly goose" on good days when I get breathless because I forget I have this little breathing problem.  Those are good days, indeed.  Today was one of them.

I saw my family physician, who shall be called The Dr,Too, last Friday.  Nicole had an appointment and I tagged along.  The Dr,Too always invites me in when Nicole has an appointment.  This is a vestige of the days when Nicole's aphasia was debilitating, a dozen years ago when I provided translation services.  Lately I get called in to keep her up to date on my situation.  Nicole had an outstanding, glowing report.  She is fit as a fiddle, as they say.  There is a lot of gentle humour and poking fun all around when we sit down with The Dr,Too.  Always.  Attention turned to me. When I finished briefing The Dr. Too in my best citizen scientist mode regarding my current medical condition, she let me know in no uncertain terms she would be there to help in any way she can.  It's not so much that she said the right things, but how she said them.  She will get all the reports and watch out for me, holistically.  The Dr. Too, as much as a Dr. can be, is our friend, like family.  We met her a dozen years ago, she was to be part of Nicole's post stroke rehab team.  The conductor.  She took and continues to take real time to get to know us as people, about our lives, she guides us through the health maze with brilliance. I consider myself fortunate as hell to have almost immediate access to The Dr. Too.  Maximum we wait to see her (not counting weekends) is two days.  When she is on holiday another Dr. is available if needed. We have a great family Dr.  Having a family Dr. willing to work with the transplant center is one of the prerequisites to getting listed.  It is a big deal here in Quebec to have a quality Family Physician.  We lucked out.

I want to do a blog, start to finish, from:  Hey, I think I might have a  lung transplant all the way to a funny obit written by bowling buds, say, thirty two years after said transplant.  The idea is: Russell is getting a lung transplant.  Transplant technology has come a long way, there are a lot of new developments.  Being a part of that would be exciting and meaningful.  I might have something interesting and  useful to offer.  The Transplant story blog, as it stands, blog wise, blows.  I would usually say sucks for a poor effort, but this is the result of  no effort.  It needs to be organized.  I need to be edited, thought provoked.  Stuff has to be thought upon.  Any ideas?  Say hi.  Ask a question.  Like Captain Picard said, Engage.