December 9th, 1998

	. Such a long night. I had lulled myself into a false sense of security by being much too healthy for much too long. I was feeling quite invincible, all grown up and in control. Able to stay out late without spending the next day in bed. Able to leap over tall buildings...well, to climb their stairs, which is much the same thing to someone with weak lungs. Suppose I needed a reminder of the inherent frailities of this body. Nothing like lying on the cold dark hallway floor, gasping for air (while He has a panic attack of his own) to remind me. My medicine was close at hand, though, as I had sensed this coming on even before we went to see Kodo. I had to wait for the coughing to subside before the inhaler was of any use to me...at which point I was already dizzy from 10 minutes of frantic partial inhalation. . Wednesday morning...I'm still dizzy. . There is always such a pounding in my head the next day, as if I'd slept with my head in a plastic bag. . "This is not a toy." . Nor is this body. But it is frustrating to have to coddle it when it appears to be so big and strong from the outside. Muscular legs, my mother's height, broad shoulders. External. Internally, the picture is a little different. Brittle bones that fracture at every opportunity, lungs that are scarred from too many bouts of pneumonia. And that other thing. . Am I feeling sorry for myself, in the wake of this latest reminder? . No, I'm just wishing a trade-in was possible. siempre, Shy . Addendum: Fourteen days. I will be breathing warmer air in fourteen days. Copyright SMQ 1998

or perhaps...