Being married to a sick person got Josh a lot of attention from idiot acquaintances and, alas, her mother. “You’re a saint, Josh. I don’t know how you do it,” her mom said one day when she insisted on coming to a doctor’s appointment. Lauren was having her blood drawn to check her arterial gases.

“I’m actually sleeping with Tyler here,” Josh said, nodding solemnly at the phlebotomist. “Best sex of my life.”

Her mom gasped, and then, realizing it was a joke as Lauren laughed (and coughed), glared at Josh.

“I don’t like to brag,” said Tyler, “but I do have a reputation.”

“I feel neglected,” Lauren said. “I’ve never slept with you, Tyler.”

“Text me,” he said with a wink. “Hold the gauze, you know the drill, and voilà! Get out. Go. Leave me.”

“Maybe he can be your next true love,” Lauren said to Josh.

“I could do a lot worse.”

“It’s not funny,” her mom said. “First, my husband drops dead, and now my daughter is dying.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Lauren said. “Can we get Thai food? You want to come, Mom?” Because even if her mother was a little black rain cloud, she was still her mother. “Let’s call Steph and see if she can come.” Her mom was better behaved when there was a more functional peer around.

Lauren also found that she’d become inspiration porn . . . that too many people bent over backward to praise her for simply being alive. Her social media accounts were suddenly burgeoning with compliments about her boring photos of food and trees. Mean Debi was the worst. You’re amazing! You can do anything! Keep up the good work! #prayers #LaurenStrong. (Not that she came by or made a casserole or anything.)

Only Jen, Sarah and Asmaa stayed sane . . . Sarah even going so far as to post yawn when Lauren posted yet another picture of the sky at sunset. Lauren appreciated that.

She didn’t want to be known as Dying Lauren or Terribly Sick Lauren. She didn’t want to start a YouTube channel or a foundation (though huge props to those who did, because Lauren would occasionally watch those videos for a lift). She didn’t want to document her illness . . . she wanted to think about living. Yes, IPF was a big part of it now, but there was no way she was going to post pictures of herself on oxygen to “inspire” anyone. To quote the great philosopher, ain’t no one got time for that.

She did start a Twitter account under @NotDeadYet0612 with an avatar of a skeleton smoking a cigarette. The purpose was to document stupid things people said, because if you couldn’t laugh at them, you might become homicidal. She became quite popular, reporting from the trenches.