Ruppelt Patrick

Nobody at the AOK checked anything. I sent off the application on Wednesday afternoon at four, presumably just before closing time. The next morning at 8.41am I had the rejection in the post.

And explained. And explains and explains. Unexpectedly, I set a new personal best time for holding my breath. A proud 1:35 minutes without ventilation.

Because what still somehow ended well with a mask, more or less, is now a gamble with life with a cannula. Which is totally my thing. If I can play with it myself.

A drop in the ocean? No, I see it differently. It means EVERYTHING to the rescued animals. 

That's right. Since 2018, no more tests have allegedly been carried out on dogs. The past dog experiments were very stressful for the animals. But...

And before anyone says I don't have COPD... I know that myself. But I'm not a doctor. What do I know? I only know what helps. And that's this at least three times a day.

I am not an expert. I'm not a doctor either. But I can read. In this case, a 179-page document from the German Society for Pneumology and Respiratory Medicine.

My carer on night duty today is busy with me non-stop while my visitors are celebrating. I'm in the middle of it all and yet not there.

Preparations completed. 11:47 am. 2x Tavor 1000 i. V and Piritramid i. V. are in. Ventilation is battery-operated on dry tubes. Ready to go.

Pretending that all is right with the world. And celebrate the biggest pseudo-religious, commercialised festival of joy the world has ever seen. Merry Christmas.