Just Breathe

I have asthma. It’s not an excuse, it’s not a bid for pity, it’s not a symptom of being overweight. It just is. The last 8 or so years of my life have seen a lot of difficult changes with my body. I’ve developed allergies to everything. My cats, pollen, dust, grass, molds, my dog, bee stings. I have to carry an Epi pen because in the words of one doctor, “you never know when the big one might happen.” I’ve developed eczema on my hands and elbows. I have asthma. I’ve been overweight in one form or another for most of my adult life. It’s a struggle. But it has nothing to do with my asthma, allergies, or eczema. It has nothing to do with the fact that my feet keep forming neuromas, painful nerve bundles that have to be surgically removed and have nothing to do with my weight and everything to do with the way my feet are formed (thanks genetics!). I have hypothyroidism. This means that I have to take a little pill every morning to make sure that my metabolism doesn’t completely shut down on me. I have a tough time regulating my body temperature. I get tired, so desperately tired, if I don’t take my meds. It’s estimated that for thyroid patients, it’s about three times harder to lose weight than for those who don’t have thyroid issues. Again, I’m not using it as an excuse, it’s just a thing that I have to deal with.

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The asthma thing is the newest of my things to deal with. I haven’t yet found a doctor who can help me control my asthma. I ended up in urgent care after a week or more of complete and utter fatigue. Every time I sat down, I would fall asleep. I knew that I had things to get done, but could not get up the motivation to do them. I was beyond exhausted. It turns out I wasn’t breathing right and just didn’t realize it. I went to urgent care, got a nebulizer treatment and was right as rain again. So, it was recommended to me by my urgent care provider to ask my own personal doctor about atopic triad. A very specific condition that involves allergies, asthma, and eczema. Bingo! I have all three. So, I found a new doctor because my former doctor, who I loved tremendously, was the only one in his group that I would see. I didn’t like the PAs, the nurses, only my doctor and it was very difficult to get in to see him. So, on the recommendation of a family member, I went to this new doctor. I mentioned atopic triad to me and he threw back his head and laughed. Yep. He laughed at me like it was the best joke he’d heard all day. I’m looking for something, anything that will help me and this guy is sitting there on his little stool, in his white coat, laughing at me while I stared on in mute fascination. His suggestion to help with my allergies and asthma? Well, sell the house, because it’s old and probably dusty and moldy, and get rid of my pets. Of course!!! How ridiculously simple that I couldn’t come up with that plan myself. Oh, except that I love my pets as parts of my family and have worked for years to own my home and even if I wanted to, there is no way to afford to just pick up and buy a new house.

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I’m just finishing up a round of antibiotics and steroids. I developed asthmatic bronchitis and suffered for a few weeks before breaking down and seeing the hilarious laughing doctor. When I called to make my appointment, the nurse informed me that I would not be able to be seen that day but I could certainly go to urgent care. I hung up on her. What is the point, exactly, of having a doctor I can’t get in to see? On a Friday? When I’ve been sick for 3 weeks. She didn’t even ask me what was wrong. Just said that I would not get in to see anyone. So, I waited all weekend and called on Monday. The receptionist asked who my doctor was and I gave her the name but said that I didn’t want to see him. I don’t like him. She seemed surprised but got me in with another doctor that afternoon. It had been about 2 months between my first visit and this one and the first thing they want me to do? Hop on the scale so we can get your weight. Why? I’m not there to discuss my weight and being overweight is certainly not contributing to my difficulty breathing and racking cough. The nurse looked at me as if nobody had ever denied her a thing in her entire life. I told her that I respectfully declined getting my weight taken. I was here 2 months ago. My weight hasn’t changed and it has nothing to do with my cough. She sputtered a bit, but eventually moved on to the dreaded blood pressure. The automated machines assume that, because I have a large arm and need a large cuff, my blood pressure is high so it sits there for interminable minutes pumping and pumping and whirring and whirring. I tell every nurse that I have low blood pressure and they just smile at me. I tell them that the machines hurt my arm. Indeed, I have left the doctor’s office in the past with a lovely circle of bruises from that machine. So there I sit, hacking, wheezing, and being miserable and this nurse is just watching, watching the machine go up, up, up. I tell her it hurts. I tell her again it hurts. And one more time I tell her, in a raised voice that she needs to get the cuff off of me. She acts like this has never happened to her. “I just don’t understand” she says. I say I understand. It happens all the time. She is shocked. I’m bruised, and hacking, and miserable.

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The doctor comes in and is wonderful. I have asthmatic bronchitis. Lovely. Steroids and a Z-pack. She said that the only concern that she has is that the steroids may increase my appetite. I looked at her and shook my head. I said my only concern is that I can breathe easily again. Who cares if my appetite increases for the 7 days I’m on the steroids. Will the damage really be that severe? It’s now a week later. My cough is remarkably better, not 100% but we’re getting there. My appetite did increase for a few days, but so did my body temperature. God I was so hot!! But she didn’t warn me about that. I slept well. I ate well. And now I’m healing. And I’ll continue to love my cats and dog, live in my house and search for an answer that will help me deal with my things.

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