Current daily regiment to control my asthma and allergies
Where it all Began
I gasp for air in a fit of coughing. I spring into an upward position, trying to catch my breath. I’m so tired and all I want to do is sleep, but this tightness in my chest won’t let me rest. This feeling has become all too familiar and I grow more exhausted as each day passes. Although there is humor in this article title, living with asthma has been anyting but funny. This is my story of living with severe asthma.
Diagnosed with asthma at age six, I honestly never felt that it affected my life. Minus a few episodes, minor shortness of breath at summer camp, two bouts of pneumonia, in my teens and early twenties, and some wheezing here and there visiting my grandparent’s dusty house, I was fortunate enough to not have any serious problems because of my asthma. In fact, I wasn’t even sure I had ever had an asthma attack before the last year and a half. If I did, I could count maybe two or three episodes that would have been considered an attack, but they were pretty mild. I only recall one visit to the ER in my childhood because of my asthma, I was about twelve and had been staying at my Grandparent’s old farm house in another state. My father also has asthma, so he was always very aware of how to manage illness and taught me how to properly take care of my asthma when I was old enough.
Falling Out of Control
Almost two years ago, I moved to Maine so I could pursue another college degree. I believe this change caused my asthma to fall rapidly out of control. I would later learn from an environmental professor that the state of Maine has the highest rates of asthma in the entire country. Why? Well, all the pollution from the coal mines out west settles here due to the cross-wind patterns. It explained a lot, as my hometown was only about an hour away, right across the boarder in New Hampshire. different from the seacoast of Maine. It wasn’t a huge change in climate from what I was used to, but obviously something different in the enviornment was enough to trigger me into a downward sprial.
My first semester of school and living in a dorm consisted of many sleepless nights, but not because of papers or late-night cram sessions. I had to prop myself up in my bed and do everything I could to stop the frequent asthma attacks in order to fall asleep. I struggled to stop coughing, it felt as if I was drowning in my own bodily fluids (sorry for the image) and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get this crap out of my lungs! For years, my rescue inhaler sat untouched with my other medications, often expiring before I ever needed to use it. Suddenly, it felt as though I was reaching for my albuterol every few hours, and even worse, it didn’t seem to be helping. I remember one night doing everything I could think of to try and get my breathing under control, until there was nothing left to do but take an allergy pill and hope that helped. It didn’t do much, but it was enough to get me through the morning without landing in the hospital. However, at that time, the asthma attacks would come and go. I could have a few great weeks where my breathing felt normal, and then I’d have a terrible night. However, the next day I felt fine again. I passed it off as stress and thought, if it was really a problem, it would be happening all the time. Plus, getting back into the swing of college again, after taking a year off, was a lot on my plate. To be quite honest, I didn’t want to take the time to care for my quickly failing health. Looking back on that first year, I realized I should have gotten help much sooner than I did.
Nothing is Working
Most Recent ER Visit
Over winter break in December 2016, I finally saw my primary care doctor. She said I sounded congested, but nothing too serious. She prescribed steroid, prednisone, and suggested I use my nebulizer, a machine that adminsters breathing treatments I had from my two previous bouts with pneumona. That first course of prednisone was amazing! The nebulizer also seemed to be helpong. I could take a full breath for the first time in months and I thought that was the end of it.
It wasn’t the end, things only got worse from there. I saw my primary care doctor about five times over the next year. Being told I probably had walking pneumonia, then bronchitis, and then maybe it was just another asthma flare up. Nothing my doctor did could get my asthma to come back down to normal. My bloodwork looked fine, my x-rays appear normal, and yet, anyone with a stethoscope who listened to my lungs had serious concerns that my breathing was so compromised. My body was also showing signs of severe allergies, post-nasal drip, skin irritations, eye itching and swelling. This was another issue I was aware of since childhood, but was always under control, minus mild seasonal allergies. I was put back on Singulair, an allergy pill known to also help asthma, that I had been on years before but hadn’t needed in some time. Then my inhaler dose was increased, I was on at least five courses of antibiotics, if not more, and I was put on prednisone every time I saw my doctor. Each time I took it, it helped less and less, until it really did nothing at all. I was still having frequent asthma attacks. I was starting to forget what breathing without a struggle was like. After my final visit to my primary care, my doctor broke the news: she had done all she could and was referring me to a pulmonologist and allergist. At this point, it was winter break of 2017, and I hadn’t breathed normally for over a year. I didn’t realize what an emotional toll it had taken on me until I was finally at my first appointment with my pulmonologist.
Seeing an Expert
There I was, waiting in a small exam room with my Mom, and I’m just feeling defeated. In a fit of violent coughing, I just break down and cry. I don’t ever cry in public, but I couldn’t help but feeling like I was ready to give up. I had been so sick for so long and I just couldn’t take it. I felt like my body had failed me. My Mom turned to me, rubbed my back and she said, “Don’t worry honey, we are here now, and we are going to get you help, ok?” The doctor came in and reassured me that he was doing everything in his power to help get me better. Dr. Windt is an older man in his 70s, and he was the type of doctor that burst in and took over the room. I was hopeful he could finally help me. He immediately had me sit up on the table, he listened to my lungs, looked in my nose, peered in my mouth, all while asking me a hundred questions about my medical history. He then sat at the computer, typed up some notes, and then turned to me.
He said, “Historically, going back thousands of years, people with asthma don’t realize how sick they really are when their asthma is uncontrolled. This is because normal breathing to an asthmatic will still always be impaired compared to someone who doesn’t have asthma.” His next sentence really hit me, “If you had gone to the ER right now, they would have admitted you.” Whoa, my breathing was so bad I would have been admitted to the hospital? I knew it was bad, I had been feeling it, but that really made me realize how serious it was. At that moment it hit me, asthma is a very serious disease when uncontrolled. If I don’t put my health first, this could ultimately land me in the hospital, or even kill me. People die from asthma. In fact, the current statistic says that eleven American’s die EVERY DAY from asthma. Many of those deaths are preventable if proper treatment is sought. However, as Dr. Windt had said, many asthmatics are unaware of how much trouble they are in, and for some, it is ultimatly not realized until it is too late.
Dr. Windt ended up keeping me in his office for three hours. I recieved various treatments, getting chest therapy (which I learned is a special “massage” where a nurse pretty much just beats the crap out of your chest and ribs to clear the build-up of mucous), and multiple breathing treatments. I was sent home with a large paper bag of medications and my Mom went to the pharmacy later that night to get me more. I was loaded me up on medications for the next few weeks in order to avoid a hospitlization.
Looking to the Future
I wish I could say in the six months since I first saw Dr. Windt that my asthma is now well-controlled once again. Unfortunately, this has been a long process. This past semester in school was incredibly difficult. I missed more class in three months due to my asthma than I have in over five years of college. I know I am in good hands with my doctor, and it is going to take some time to figure out the right combination of medications. I am currently on a strict regiment of daily nasal and oral care, breathing treatments, and medications in the double digits. I had extensive allergy testing done and am now strictly avoiding a lot of foods that cause flare ups and mucous production. Even with all this, I still wheeze, cough, and have shortness of breath every day. I still have frequent asthma attacks. The other possiblity Dr. Windt has prepared me for is that something else is going on that might be mimicking asthma symptoms. This is something he will be looking into.
As I write this now, I am currently in bed, after spending yet another few hours at urgent care on Monday for my breathing. It seems I caught an upper respiratory cold that had been going around. For a normal person, this wouldn’t be a big deal. They might have cold-like symptoms for 24 hours and be back to normal in no time. I have unfortunately had to call out of work for the entire week. In fact, as I was reading through this article last night getting ready to publish it, I was forced to go to the ER yet again for a severe attack.
Another thing that really bums me out? Not only is it frustrating to feel constantly sick and unable to breath (duh), but my asthma is beginning to limit my life. It’s so difficult to be around anyone wearing perfume, or even using scented soaps, being in public when someone is smoking close-by can send me over the edge. I’ve become very sensitive to smells and often struggle outside of an indoor, well-controlled enviornment, preferably one that I am already accustomed to. Small tasks like walking short-distances or upstairs has become difficult. Not to mention, being around animals, which is not only my career, but my entire life. I love my job as a veterinary technician, and I have to say, I know that it is probably making my asthma worse. I finally understand what living with a chronic, debilitating disease is like, and it’s terrible.
Holding onto Hope for Healing
All this time, I can’t believe how I had taken something as simple as breathing for granted. Being able to take a full breath without feeling the crackling in my lungs, or the urge to violently cough, or to just breath without feeling sick, is something I never realized I had taken advantage of my whole life. I hate being known as “the sick girl.” I hate feeling so sick. I hate not knowing if or when this will ever get better. It is something that I hope everyone out there who is fortunate enough to be blessed with the gift of a normal breath, realizes how lucky they are to be able to inhale and exhale, without struggle, every minute of every day. I’ve tried to remain hopeful and just embrace it. Purchasing a spiffy medical alert bracelet, a sparkly keychain to hold my inhaler, getting crafty with a medical information wallet insert, and of course, my handy-dandy emergency medication bag that I take with me everywhere I go. I’ve even been reading about the possibility of an asthma alert service dog, although that would probably be further down the road. For now, I try to think positively. Though, living with a chronic illness for the last two years, all while trying to keep up with school, work, and having a life, has really taken a toll on my mental health. I just have to remind myself that I will find the right combination of medication. I will get better. In the meantime, I just have to try put on a brave face, and remember to try and breathe through it all. 
You are a brave warrior and stronger than you know. You are a role model for many and an inspiration. Every day is a new day. Do not be afraid to ever reach out. We all need help now and then. Hang in there. We are here for you.