Imagine you are 6 years old, excited about everything, full
of life, constantly in motion. Now put yourself in one of those
play places you might find at child-friendly restaurants. Your
6-year-old self is literally bouncing off the walls, sprinting from
that giant ball pit to a huge spiraling slide, crawling as fast as
you possibly can through those bright orange tunnels. You know the
ones - they snake around corners, looping around and around
until you have no idea where you are or where you started. But
that's all part of the fun, right?
As you scramble along, the air gets thicker and heavier, your
chest grows tight and starts to heave, you feel as if you are
suddenly forced to breathe through a pinched straw. You stumble,
now gasping like a fish out of water, the orange walls are blurry
and growing steadily darker. All you want is to breathe, just to
fill your lungs with fresh clean air, but your vision only grows
more bleary as you feel a giant weight bearing down on your chest.
You lie there, head spinning, mouth gaping, begging for breath,
until at last it comes. Soon, your vision clears and you no longer
feel so dizzy. You pick yourself up, and make your way out of the
neon labyrinth.
This is how I remember my very first asthma attack, only I had
no idea what was going on at the time. As a little kid you are
always trying to keep up with everyone around you, so it's
fairly common to be out of breath. For this reason, I never really
recognized my asthma until I started taking swimming lessons twice
a week. I complained to my instructor that the water was pushing on
my chest or that my bathing suit was too tight. My complaints were
dismissed; people just thought I was whining. What everyone failed
to realize was that I was suffering from symptoms of asthma.
Scoring a Diagnosis
I was eventually diagnosed with allergies and was treated weekly
with allergy shots. Around this time, I started to play competitive
soccer and my breathing problems resurfaced. But this time they
were much more intense.
On any sports team, every individual is expected to play his or
her hardest. Every time I stepped onto the playing field, I was
there to do my best. It didn't matter if I was the best player
or the very worst; I just wanted to play the game. I started to
suffer from breathing problems again, and to be honest, they gave
me a feeling of inferiority, of weakness, so I tried to play
through them.
Unfortunately, this led to several attacks that were a bit more
severe than the ones I endured in swimming. Obviously, something
was wrong. I was fit and relatively athletic, but still having
difficulty breathing.
Since I had been diagnosed with allergies my parents consulted
our family physician, who came to the conclusion that I was
suffering from
sports-induced asthma
. My doctor prescribed a fast-acting
inhaler
that stabilized my asthma.
For several years after that, everything seemed great. I had the
occasional flare-up, but with my inhaler I was able to manage my
asthma reasonably well. That is, until the middle of freshman year
when I contracted the flu.
[Often, someone with asthma who catches the flu may notice
increased asthma symptoms, even after the temporary illness has
long since passed.]
Running Out of Breath
From this point on, my occasional asthma attacks at soccer grew
much more frequent and severe. Instead of just losing my breath or
experiencing mild wheezing, I had a loud, choking-like wheeze. I
was on the border of passing out many times. Still, I didn't
want to be weak. I wanted to show I could endure anything. So I
insisted that everything was OK, that I didn't need to see a
doctor, that it was just a little cold, anything I could think
of.
I started to suffer from a chronic cough, a wheezy, dry cough
that just wouldn't go away. Finally, my parents insisted I see
a doctor. This time my physician gave me a
daily pill
I would take to help prevent my asthma symptoms. In addition to
that, I would take my fast-acting inhaler every 4 to 6
hours until the cough subsided.
This seemed to work OK until a month later. I had a
reaction to someone's perfume in French class. Coming into
contact with things like strong perfume, the dander on pets, or
pollen in the air can
trigger
a reaction in some people with asthma. Cigarette smoke is
especially terrible for me - one whiff and I start coughing up
a storm.
In this case, the perfume triggered my asthma and I started
coughing and wheezing uncontrollably. My French teacher was trying
to explain the imperfect tense of verbs as my vision blurred and
the room started to spin. Next thing I knew, I was being hauled out
on a stretcher and into an ambulance.
I have never been so frightened in my life. I don't even
remember a lot of what happened because I kept coming in and out of
consciousness. I remember lying on the floor, I remember someone
asking me where my inhaler was, and I remember a teacher telling
me, "It's all going to be all right, it's going to be
just fine, just breathe." It wasn't until I was in the
ambulance that I really came out of my baffled state and my
breathing stabilized.
Once I got to the hospital I was put on a nebulizer, which is a
device used to change liquid medication into something a person can
breathe. It consists of a mouthpiece, tubing, and the compressor
(which changes the state of the medication from liquid to vapor).
After being released with a referral to see my usual physician, I
made my way home.
Friends Make the Difference
After leaving the hospital, I turned on my cell phone to see I
had three new voicemails and several missed calls. Within a few
minutes my phone started to ring, over the next half hour I
received calls from all of my closest friends, each one checking
and double-checking and triple-checking that I was OK. Despite
having just suffered one of the most frightening attacks I have
ever experienced, I was reassured knowing I had such supportive and
caring friends.
When I returned to school, most people knew about what happened
and wanted to hear me tell the story. Even people I didn't
really know would come and ask, "Hey, are you that girl they
took out on a stretcher? Seriously? What happened?" I
didn't mind, it's natural for people to be curious. Usually
people just responded with an awed voice and "Wow."
Though freaked out, most of my friends understood what happened and
wanted to make sure it didn't happen again. I am lucky to have
the friends that I do, who are attentive and always ready to
help.
Taking Control
Now, in addition to the fast-acting inhaler I've always
used, I take another inhaler every day as a preventive medication,
along with my daily pill. Before I play sports, during an attack,
or if I have a wheezing cough, I take the fast-acting inhaler. To
be honest I am not too fond of that fast-acting inhaler - it
makes me jittery and shaky and hyper. But I do what I need to do in
order to stay as healthy as I can.
Some days are just bad days. In the summer, if it is
ridiculously hot and humid, I have more trouble than usual. The
same thing happens in the winter when it is one of those
excessively dry, cold, and windy days. On these days I just have to
work a little harder and maybe take my fast-acting inhaler more
often. Whenever I feel that wheeze, that tight feeling in my chest,
I just take that inhaler.
Playing for Keeps
I think that playing sports has really helped me with my asthma.
Playing a sport increases your lung capacity, and physical fitness
is incredibly important to a person with asthma. Being in good
physical condition means my "comfort zone" of activity is
higher than if I didn't play a sport of any kind. Because of
this, I can reach a higher level of activity without suffering
asthma symptoms.
Within the last year I started running track as an in-between
sport for soccer to keep in shape and get some good exercise. I
never would have guessed that I would fall in love with the sport
so quickly. This past fall I switched from soccer to cross-country
for the first time, where I found it was much easier to control my
asthma.
As opposed to soccer, which consists of a start-stop, start-stop
style of running, in long distance running I can pace myself and
maintain a stable breathing pattern until the very end, where I
sprint with everything I have left. Each time I work through it
with all of my willpower. My coaches are unbelievably supportive.
They are the kind of people you want to make proud, that you never
want to disappoint. They are always attentive to each member of our
team, myself included.
As much as I love running, it gets frustrating sometimes. Days
when I want to run more, I want to run faster, but I just can't
breathe are the worst. But I work through them to the best of my
ability. Sometimes it feels like every time I run it's a
struggle between me and my breath. That last stretch is always the
most grueling part of the race and the hardest test of my asthma. I
just focus on that finish line and sprint with every fiber of my
being, knowing that the end is just a few more strides away.
The burst of exhilaration and pride that fills me when I cross
that line is almost indescribable. It surpasses anything I have
ever experienced in soccer; I guess it must be what some call a
"runner's high." This experience, asthma, running,
everything, has taught me what it means to want something and to
work for it, using every possible resource to get to where I need
to be. I know now that what I once thought was a weakness has made
me stronger, and knowing this has made all of the trials and tests
worth it.
Reviewed by:
Elana Pearl Ben-Joseph, MD
Date reviewed: June 2007
Originally reviewed by:
Steven Dowshen, MD
Note: All information is for educational purposes only. For specific medical advice,
diagnoses, and treatment, consult your doctor.
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