So - What Happens Now?

I was watching the rescue of the Chilean miners, and listening to some shrink talk about how the ordeal was going to affect them.  I thought, "I can relate to this..."  Not that anything I've gone through is as dangerous and horrible as what they endured, but - I've been in a deep, dark hole for years, and, now, I have to deal with re-entering the sunlight, and what that means for me.

I should be happier, but I'm not.

Oh, I'm glad that they've solved the mystery of why I wasn't responding to treatments (some of which actually exacerbated the problems), why I was, still, always sick and had a few dramatic crisis situations, why I'm not fucking dead, and all of that shit, but - what's next? 

How much will I recover?  What have I lost due to misdiagnosis and the wrong treatments?  How much can I hope for?  To work again?  To go upcountry and hike, camp again?  To look forward to a relatively normal life?  I'm afraid to hope for too much, but I keep looking forward at getting it all back...will I? 

I want...

I want...

I want, want, want...but...

I'm told it will be approximately six months before I see 'substantial, marked mprovements' and a year before I can assume I've reached the optimum plateau.  In between, there's a lot of work on my part, including physical therapy, and a lot of diddling about with my medications - most of which Dr. Curry discarded, by the way, leaving me with a total of seven that include three inhalers (no more nebulizer!!) and one I only take occasionally.  My oxygen level has already improved to the point that, soon, I might only need it at night, and maybe not then - maybe only when I'm physically stressed or have other issues with breathing (a cold, etc.) that makes it necessary.  I would be feeling blissed if I could do away with my leash, my O2 converter...

But I won't let myself get too high on this yet.  I've been fucked over before by the medicos, and my trust in them and theirs is, now, close to zero.  While I don't blame them - I accept the explanation that lupus, COPD, CHF and diabetes is a witches' brew of symptoms that all masquerade as other issues - I no longer have the faith I did that They - the unknown They - will take care of me.  Hell, they almost killed me a few times from what Dr, Curry told me.

(One of the male nurses told me that Curry called my doc more than once to jump his ass about what was done to me.  While I think its nice he was a White Knight for me, I, still, like my doc.  I think he really did do his best, and he followed prescribed procedures - what else could he do?  And he WAS the one who, finally, suspected diabetes being the hidden demon in the brew, so...)

Right now, I'm feeling really lost about what to expect from my future.  I don't like not having a path in front of me...  I was prepared to die, oddly enough, but the idea of living is what scares me now........