Fear
A few months ago, in the middle of the night, I woke up. Not for the normal reasons, like a weird dream, or having to pee, or having slept on my arm such that it fell asleep and is now screaming, “Pins and needles! Pins and needles! Pins! Needles! AUGH!” But for a completely new reason. I couldn’t breathe. The heavy wheezing woke Mike up, and he frantically asked if I was okay, while I could not respond. Eventually, it died down, and I went on pretending it never really happened, save talking to a friend about it briefly, but downplaying it the whole time.
Fear is a special thing. It makes you pretend something never happened, even though you know it did, and you know it probably wasn’t normal. So I suppressed it and went on with normalcy.
Then about a month or so ago, before we moved, I had some girls over my apartment to help distract Kelly from the fact that Paul was at his bachelor’s party. Much video games and girly vodka drinks were had, and it was a pretty good time. Then, as I was pouring new drinks for two of us (or maybe more, who knows), it happened again. This time I was surrounded by people hovering. One married to an asthmatic, one an asthmatic herself. The wheezing did die down, and I was able to take a few deep breaths and tell them that it happened once before. Eventually they convinced me to use my sister’s inhaler. Turns out Albuterol makes your heart race, so that was… fun…
I spent much time muttering, “I don’t want it,” and “Can I give it back now?” But no, I could no longer ignore this. I made an appointment to see my doctor. That appointment happened last week.
My doctor is really nice, but that doesn’t mean I’m not afraid of her. She keeps chiding me for being scared of her, but really, there’s nothing I can do. I fear doctors. A lot. So much that it took me several tries, and some strong reminders from my friends, to actually call to make the appointment.
So, after the chiding for my raised blood pressure and fidgeting hands, we moved on with me telling her why I was there in the first place. Initially, she had the tell-tale eye roll of a doctor who just hates WebMD for planting ideas in peoples’ heads. “Why do you think you have asthma?” So I told her about the wheezing, and that my sister who has asthma said it seemed quite familiar. The look on her face instantly changed. Now she was mad at me for not going straight to the ER. She explained that apparently an attack like that can send your lungs into a weird state for months.
If I’m afraid of my regular doctor, I’m petrified of the ER. And I’ve been there a couple times…
So, apparently, I might have asthma. I’m seeing a specialist next week, that ought to be interesting. Apparently, I’ll be breathing into a magical machine that knows if you have it or not. Wheefun.
This morning, as I was coming up out of Arlington station, I came upon a lady taking a puff out of her inhaler. I watched several people pass without acknowledgeable, and realized that only a few months ago, I would have done the same thing. But now, I had read WebMD, and listened to my doctor get nervous for me. I had the fear. And I could see some of it in her, whether I imagined it or it was real, it didn’t matter.
I asked her if she was okay, and after a few deep breaths she said she was. We talked about how insane the four flights of stairs and the long hallway are for the escape from Arlington station. The construction there is taking far too long. She could really use an escalator.
Once we emerged – she stopped a few more times to catch what little breath she could – she swore to me that she’d be alright, and she headed off in a path orthogonal to mine. I wonder how many people suffer an asthma attack never being asked how they are. Are we so desensitized to what is actually quite a real illness? And why, for that matter, do so many people have it?
I’m scared.
I don’t want it.
Can I give it back now?
Boy I totally empathaize with you about scared. The absolute most frightening moment in my life, to date, occurred when I was 10 years old. I was playing basketball for St. Joseph’s Church in Worcester. Up until that time I had spent a normal chldhood hiking, playing hockey and baseball, swimming and, y’know, just generally doing all the things kids normally do. I was skinny then. Then the moment happened. I’m running down the court, desperately trying to defend (I really, really suck at basketball) and all-of-a-sudden I couldn’t breathe. Period. That was it. One minute I was sucking in air just as fine as you please and the next my air was gone. For what seemed like an eternity every fiber in my body was crying out for air. I was later told it was close to 2 minutes that I was out-of-action.
Needless to say this prompted one of the very few visits to the emergency room of my childhood. Like you, I hate the hospital, doctors, and just about anything medical. I cross the street to avoid being closer to the hospital than I have to when I walk from home to the lab.
To this day I can’t stand the sport of basketball. From that time on I also avoided all the other sports that I liked to do as much as possible for fear that it would happen again.
I had to carry that damn proventil inhaler with me wherever I went.
Fortunately, I’m supposed to have “outgrown” it. I’ve never had it occur, even when I was pumping hard underwater as a driver.
Now I’m rambling. Don’t be as afraid as I was. The inhalers do work. The breathing exercises help. Own it instead of letting it own you.
Yes sir!
Although, as my luck would have it, if I do have asthma, and I still don’t know that for sure, I would have adult onset, so… not so much with the growing out of it.
I do know that my fear of hospitals, doctors and especially ambulances comes from a similar childhood experience, however. I had epilepsy (which I did grow out of, much as you grew out of asthma) as a child. I woke up in ambulances a lot. Not pleasant. Still to this day, I would rather walk to the hospital with two broken legs than take an ambulance ride.
*hugs* understanding all of it. while simple concern is nice, just in case, when you have your inhaler and know how to deal with an attack, having 20 people staring and hovering while you try to make your lungs go, is uncomfortable too.
i really hope for you that you don’t have asthma.
I’d love to not have asthma, so long as what I do have isn’t worse! :)
Hi Diane,
I am so sorry for what you are going through. I can imagine how worried you must be. Maybe I can shed a little lightness onto the situation though – - I actually really enjoy that magical machine at the Asthma Specialist’s Office. Sometimes, depending on the office, the computer has a little display of a birthday cake, and you are told just to blow into this tube like you are blowing out the candles. And as you exhale, the image updates and the flames on the candles start going out. It actually really helps calm you down, and can be kind of fun.
Good luck at your appointment though. Hang in there. And don’t forget, it really is a good thing that you are going to figure all this out. Once you know what is going on and have the proper information for how to handle it, you probably won’t be nearly as worried, and the scary situation will become much more bearable…
I’m here if you want to talk :o) HUGS!
Thank you hon.
Check my LJ please…will the 10th work for you?
- J
I didn’t even see this comment until I was posting the post about how I saw you on the 10th!