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I realize that I’ve yet to specify my ailment. Probably cowardice or at least hoping that silence will keep it from being true.
Atrial fibrillation is a way of saying my heart don’t got rhythm. My blood’s slovenly percolation leaves me more likely to have a stroke.
I breathe air processed by a device that purifies and concentrates the mix. And take Coumadin - one of the most nigglingly adjusted, more worrisome of medications. This leaves me feeling breakable, almost crumbly. I’ve lost faith with my body, fearing to trust my lungs continued functioning.
The immediate anxiety isn’t all that bad. It is mostly a lack of belief in my future. Not being able to sleep for longer than two hours at a stretch is the worst effect. Hopefully the cumulative defective sleep will eventually knock me out for several hours.