Days of Slow Suffocation

The other day after an event a friend sent me a quick text-
"Hey! Are you ok? You were kind of off by yourself this afternoon!"

I replied- "Oh! Thanks for asking. Actually the lungs are giving me a hard time today. I hope I did not appear upset or anything."

The conversation continued in that vain for a while. But it got me thinking. And has kept me thinking for a week or so. Long enough that I decided to dust off the old blog for a brief moment.  Because as an extrovert people expect that we want to always be in the middle. And they are for the most part correct. I am hoping understanding my story a little bit can help you all next time to maybe ask yourself this question of the friend who is acting outside the norm. It might be that they too have similar stories. And if not conversation is almost always beneficial. Don't you think!

So here is my story.  May it help you with yours...

Andrew learned in Boy Scouts quite a few years ago that we can go 3 weeks without food, 3 days without water, and 3 minutes without oxygen. Oxygen is an ESSENTIAL part of life. And I struggle with it every. single. day.

At 4 years old according to my Mom I got a bad case of the flu. From that illness on the problems with my lungs developed. Now when I was a child all the research on asthma had not yet been done. They knew enough to help me keep breathing but truly not much else. The most common medicine prescribed was Theophylline.  And I too was prescribed theophyliine.   A little pill I took every day without fail. A little pill that made me often not feel hungry, gave me fine tremors all the time, and left me feeling restless most days. But it helped. This medicine has such bad side effects and the chance of toxicity is such that is is extremely uncommon for it to be prescribed now days to children.  I am still thankful for that dreadful little pill.

Despite that med- I was sick A LOT. I never got the perfect attendance award anywhere. We were just happy if I was able to attend anything for a whole month without illness. I had an inhaler and a nebulizer at home. But often those were insufficient. Mom likes to say all her grey hairs were put there by either Jason and his diabetes or me and my asthma. Mom spent many a night up all night by my bedside keeping me calm and taking slow deep breaths to try to avoid having to make an emergency room visit. We did not have health insurance for most of my early years you see. Despite her vigilance there were quite of few E.R. visits.  To this day she gets a look in her eye when she talks about those nights. Now as a Mom myself I understand that look.

 After getting me through the night we would be at my pediatricians office as soon as the doors open or whatever time the lungs had gone hay wire and our best efforts at home were not enough. And boy did we know all the tricks. I learned not to panic as my sats dropped. I learned to stay calm while the struggle to breath was going on. Panic was the enemy. Panic made everything so much worse. I could sit in the perfect position to open my chest up to the fullest possible extent. And knew the temperature that my lungs handled best during an attack. But often I still ended up at the doctors office..

They knew me very well there. In fact, we did not even sign in. They saw me coming, and I would be escorted right back to a room. Oxygen would be slapped on my face. And an epinephrine shot given pronto. That is what they did back then. Stick a needle full of adrenaline in your arm.  You felt like your heart was going to explode. They don't do that anymore either.

They tried- my doctors. They tried everything in their knowledge base- allergy shots, new meds, different dosages.  My mom tried. We cut out lots of foods, We juiced. We ate raw stuff and mostly vegetarian. We drank barley green.  We took vitamins. All to no avail. Sometimes even with a child the Lord says this is your cross to bear. BUT you will not have to bear it alone. I will be with you all the way.

By the time I was college age and thru puberty I was doing quite a bit better.  However the damage had been done. All those attacks had left my lungs damaged quite severely. By the age of 18 they said my lungs were the age of a 70 year old due to scar tissue damage. But I was better...until I wasn't.  Now knowing more about my triggers and asthma in general I suspect it was the dorm room I lived in my Senior year. But I got really sick first semester. So much so that most of my Senior year was spent in the campus hospital. Yep pretty much the whole year. But I persevered. My teachers were fantastic as were my friends. They would bring me lecture notes and study guides. The teachers would come give me my tests at the hospital. I remember I had a major research paper due for one of my classes. I would look up the books I wanted online. Then friends would check them out and bring them to me. It was months of steroids. So much that when it was finally under control my metabolism would never be the same. The girl who could not keep weight on now could not keep it off.

The early years of marriage are some of the best lung years I can remember.  I had occasional attacks. I still had to frequently use my inhaler or nebs. However I was able to do things I had never before been able to. We skiied. We hiked. We were active all the time. I am truly thankful for those years. Carl and I made many good memories. After about 3 years of marriage I became pregnant with our oldest. It was unknown how my lungs would do. We just went into it with faith.  That pregnancy ended up being one of the most difficult things we have ever gone thru but for totally different reasons than my asthma. But that is another story. We went into pregnancy number 2 with excitement. That pregnancy started the downward spiral that would worsen with each pregnancy. But the 5th my Ob/Gyn told me that he did not think he could get us both thru the next one. He highly recommended getting my tubes tied. And if I chose not to I would need to find another Ob/Gyn as he would not take me on as a patient. It was a hard blow. I had NEVER allowed asthma to dictate my life. If anything it had built in me a determination and a drive to do in spite. That I could with the Lord's help do most anything I truly set my mind to. This was a ravine I could not cross.

Since then things go up and down. But what most people do not understand is that the oxygen most of them take for granted is a struggle every single day. My lungs work on a good day 60% less efficiently than the average person. This is due to all the scar tissue and damage from the frequent attacks in my childhood.  My heart beats harder working to get oxygen were it is needed. My muscles get tired as they don't receive the O2 they need. Most days I just ignore it.  I usually start feeling it about 5pm. Often needing to take a nap or a break for an hour or two. It plays havoc on our supper time. But Carl never complains. Always stepping up. Often sending me to lay down as he takes over supper. I am so thankful for him.

Each day is different. It depends on so many factors. And some days- some days feel like slow suffocation.

Often when those days are upon me I withdraw. Not intentionally. It is kind of like when  you are really cold your extremities get less blood flow as your brain tries to protect your vital organs. I do some of it consciously.  Not putting myself in groups where I will be tempted to talk a lot or where I will laugh. Laughter is not the best medicine on those days. But some is unconscious. I get extremely tired and fuzzy. Often I smile less, get absent-minded. Do not notice what is going on around me. I focus pretty much on just getting done what needs to be done and on my children.  Carl and my family know instantly those days just by my body language. Most friends do not unless they have really taken the time to learn me. Bev Nowlin will often identify when I am having problems before I am even aware of them myself. But I find that for most people it comes across as indifferent, unsocial, or at worst that I am upset or angry.

This blog is not an apology. Nor it is me being upset with those who may misunderstand. Rather it is to give awareness. Not of myself. Honestly most of the people in my life will never know me enough to distinguish changes in my behavior as asthma related or something else. But rather a chance to give a perspective that may help one realize that sometimes people just have something going on that does not affect you at all. So maybe you can just ask next time. Or be able to overlook it without letting it hurt you. I hope that you are able to ask the next person that leaves you a little uncertain. And I hope knowing my story may help you with another in your life somewhere. So many struggle with illness rather it be lupus, diabetes, MS, cancer, arthritis or some other type that brings them trials and triumphs on a daily basis.

I am so thankful for all of the people in my life. They cause me to smile even on the not so good days. And I am thankful for the perspective that asthma has given me on life. It has made me appreciate every moment. It has showed me that I can do so much more than I would have thought I can do. It has taught me perseverance, gentleness, and determination. It has taught me to value those in my life. And it has given me a dependence on the Lord I may not have had if I did not have that daily struggle. To Him be the glory.