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After jogging a short distance, my breathing becomes quicker - the same as anyone else when they run - and is noticeably shallow. Each breath takes in less and less air, as the lungs rebel against the exertion and begin to constrict my bronchial tubes. I stop running and realize that my breathing doesn't improve - it's shallow and strained. The onset is rahter rapid, and I can feel that with each breathe, less and less air is getting through, and less and less oxygen is getting into my system. My head begins to become light and pound inside like someone is hammering from the inside, as the blood pulses through more rapidly - trying to keep me conscious and my brain alive with the oxygen it needs. The normal diaphragm and rib muscles used for breathing are no longer strong enough to draw air in through the constricted bronchial tubes, so I have to bend my body half way over, resting my hands on my knees, and consciously struggle to inhale. It feels as if someone has covered my mouth and nose with a soaking wet washcloth, or I'm trying to suck all of my air through a coffee stiring straw. The added exertion to the muscles requires more oxygen, compounding the problem, and I begin to feel faint. A feeling of panic begins to set in when I realize that it is becoming more difficult to exhale than to inhale (this is becaue our bodies rely on outside pressure and the relaxing of our muscles to exhale, so when the passage way is restricted, we don't have much in the way of reserve power to "force" the air out). The panic is real and only agitates the situation - it's real because I am struggling for breathe, and feel face to face with death. The struggle to stay alive gets harder with each atempt to breathe. To pass out would mean the inability to force air in and out of my lungs (which has lead to death for many people). The only real comfort is knowing that modern medicine (praying that it can be reached in time) can hyper-stimulate my Adrenal glands and reverse the Bronchial Restriction. A friend of family member offers words of encouragement, and maybe rubs gently on my back - allowing me to calm down a little. I try and relax and focus just on the breathing, trying to believe that I'm going to live through this one - hoping that the inhaler I've taken will start to work soon, and keep me going until the attack subsides or I can get to the hospital. I do manage to get my breathing normalized with the inhaler and later, a shot of Epinepherine, and my mental state begins to return to normal. My legs are so shaky from the syntehtic Adrenaline pumping through my body and the sudden rush of oxygen, I can't stand and am visibly shaking. Completely exhausted, my sides, lower back, and ribs ache from the unusual strain they've undegone. And then my mom takes me out for an Ice Cream.I can think of better ways to get Ice Cream out of my mom. That is how I've felt, mentally and physically, during many attacks that I had when I was younger. Often times, they came from pushing myself too hard in PE class because of peer pressure from other kids and sometimes even from the Coach himself.
I've always known people who had Asthma that was less severe than mine, and I've always known at least one person who's Asthma was more severe. Sometimes, the one's with less severe Asthma had a hard time understanding why I couldn't run a mile during 8th grade P.E. class - they could do it, why couldn't I? It became obvious at an early age that gaining the understanding of others was always going to be a hard thing to do.
Our social structure, especially growing up through elementary school, seems to thrive on competition - children are placed in races against each other or the clock, pushed to see who can do the most sit-ups in a minute, and other ways of measuring our own ability and success in terms of the people around us. Having Asthma can put you at an extreme disadvantage, but it doesn't have to put you "out of the game". We all have our strengths and weaknesses - where we lack in some areas, we can excel in others. It's sometimes difficult to realize this and even to recognize our strengths when we're so caught up in what other people see as our shortcomings.
Because I was always having to sit out of P.E. during the long runs, or on days when I was having problems, I grew bitter towards the whole concept of Athletics. It wasn't that I really disliked it, it was because I really did like it, but my Asthma held me back - and the attitude of many of the other students only compounded the problem. At times, I felt ostracized - made fun of because I was the "weakling" who couldn't run. As much as I grew to hate Exeercise, it is an important part of anyone's life. By the time I reached High School, I was pretty much sick of even going to P.E. class because I knew it was just going to be uncomfortable - even with a note from my doctor, the coach's would make me feel like a worthless, helpless weakling - all because I wasn't able to run long distances without having an Asthma attack. I managed to transfer into the Sophomore Weight Training Class as a Freshman, on my doctor's recomendation. This became my first really positive experience dealing with Asthma and athletics. It was due mainly to the attitude of the coach. His philosophy was much different from the others. It wasn't that he didn't push us, he pushed us very hard, but it wasn't to compete or excel against each other, rather, he put the emphasis on personal growth. We were not graded by who could lift the most in the class, but by how much we as individuals improved over time. At the begining, we were tested to see how much we could lift in the various exercises, and periodically through the year we were tested again. It didn't matter how much weight we could life, what mattered was that it was a little bit more than the first time we'd tried. We were improving ourselves.
From then on, I saw my Asthma from a different perspective. It wasn't something I should use to measure my own ability against the ability of others. It was something I should take into account when measuring my own achievements against my own abilities.
By the end of that year, I found myself stronger and feeling better than ever - not just physcially, but emotionally. I could lift a lot more than I could at the start. My self-image was much stronger because to me, I had overcome an obstacle. Even though Asthma keept me from running long distances and participating in most sports, I had found a gift within - a way to achieve what I couldn't before: Personal success.
Not a day goes by that I don't think about Asthma. It is a part of who I am, and not something that I can fight. But with a positive outlook on life, medical supervision, and a good perspective on the different gifts we all have, my life seems pretty normal. At least normal to me.
If there are any specifc scietific claims that are inaccurate on this page, please email me at council@gweep.net and I will update the information accordingly.
