Morning is my least favorite time of day. I’m not much of an early bird to begin with, and cystic fibrosis has not increased my love for mornings. I struggle the most with my health first thing. After lying in bed for eight or nine hours, mucus pools in my lungs and I start out each day with a series of breathing treatments and respiratory therapy to help me clear my airways. I take an inhaler to dilate the airways and inhale a saline solution to help mobilize the mucus. I blow into a device that vibrates and shakes my lungs in an attempt to dislodge the congestion from the airways and move it forward so I can cough it out. I inhale a medication designed to help thin the mucus and take a steroid inhaler to control the asthma that I have in addition to the cystic fibrosis. Sometimes I jump on a small trampoline to further loosen the congestion.
Even after doing all these treatments, I can expect to continue coughing on and off for a few hours each morning. First morning coughing is often almost violent in nature and can lead to gagging, vomiting and bad headaches. I sometimes injure muscles in my back or chest while coughing. I don’t really feel human until I’ve been up for several hours, completed all my treatments, cleared my lungs as best as I can, and had a few cups of very dark, very strong coffee. (No Folgers in this girl’s cup!) Yeah, not a morning person.
I was scrolling through my photos the other day and I started to notice something. I have a lot of pictures taken in the morning. Most of them show a messy-haired, animated little boy doing what he does best–lighting up my life. Lucas is not a morning person either, not in the strictest sense at least. He’d prefer to stay up late and sleep late. But most days he wakes up ready and raring to go, full of joy, enthusiasm and spunk from the minute he bounces out of bed.
Today I’m feeling thankful and encouraged by the gift that is my son and grateful for the joy that Lucas has brought into my mornings. I may feel crummy first thing. I may cough and struggle, but one look at his sweet, disheveled, pajama’d self and I can’t help but feel happy. He’s definitely the best part of waking up!