Just Breathe

Two weeks ago I started feeling sick - typical sinus infection that after a week rolled into a chest cold. If there wasn't always something to do - at home, at work, etc., I would have tried to go to the doctor earlier. The thing is, there is a formula for going to the doctor. It's basically making the appointment when I've been sick for a minimum of five days but fewer than ten. Fewer than five and it may be a virus, but once I've gotten to ten, the logical response from the doctor is that I've almost kicked it, so why bother with antibiotics? In any event, my fault for being busy. I didn't go in the magic window and started to believe that I was kicking it myself.

But now, about 16 days in, I'm having a hard time. Last Wednesday I got off the treadmill two miles in after realizing that I was struggling for air - not just gasping for air, which I'm totally used to - but actually struggling and using a great deal of energy to try and suck oxygen into my lungs. It was like I was using a straw and just couldn't get enough. So I got off, went to stretch, used the free weights, and went home. I've taken things easy and haven't tried to exercise much since, with the exception of a 5K run Sunday morning. Two miles into the run, I had the same experience. I actually walked for about twenty seconds - just long enough to try and inflate. My time was still good for me. I did it in 30:45 and so averaged a 9:54/mi, but it wasn't a pretty, full-of-light skipping run. It was a bit more like an elephant being chased by a taser. Thump thump wheeze. Thump thump wheeze. After the race, I felt much better and went out for breakfast with friends. Only later that afternoon, the lack of air feeling came back, and I struggled with it throughout the night.

Monday morning I called the doctor the minute they opened. She confirmed that it was asthma with a dose of upper respiratory infection. Crap. She gave me prescriptions for a new inhaler and antibiotics. I'm pretty sure I'd be happier with pneumonia or some other diagnosis that could just go away with the right meds. Asthma sucks. I came home and registered for a half-marathon in March. This is the way I handle frustration. Knee jerk denial mixed with utter lunacy.

So the bottom line is that I'm excessively grumpy about my lack of ability to breathe. I took the day off today to stay home with my son, who is coincidentally sick right now of some post-Halloween middle-of-the-night fever and lethargy, and I was able to take a nap during his. I dreamed that the road I was driving on was gradually submerging into the ocean, and I was trying to keep to the surface, and I got out of the car so that I could, but I kept getting pulled down.

The worst part is that the Pollyanna in me just keeps thinking of people who experience this all the time. Asthma, cystic fibrosis, ALS.... I can't even feel cranky without heaping on guilt about it. I really do have it so good.