Faithful Nest

Physically, I am challenged with asthma. Not just your ordinary, pops up when you least expect it and slams you to the floor asthma. I have EIA – exercise induced asthma. This insidious little gremlin is extremely lazy. He only pops up when I have disturbed his rest with the vibration and jarring of exercise. Therein lies the rub. I love to exercise.
Compelled is really the right word here. It feels as if a force outside myself prods me along. Reminiscent of my childhood, my father had a way of goading me into moving NOW. Perhaps that sense of urgency propels me through adulthood. I am not one to sit for hours watching TV. In fact, given a shot at a commercial or other interruption, I am off to grab a basket of laundry to fold or a pay a bill or any of the myriad tiny tasks that make up a life. I find that a good run quells that urgency to a more manageable influence.
Of course, it may be more of an addiction. I love to run. The feeling of the pavement rolling past and the rhythm of the run are very soothing to me. Out of shape, it does not feel the same. Once you have achieved a state of fitness, running can be nearly euphoric. Some call this the ‘zone’ others the ‘runner’s high’. I rarely feel euphoric, but a sense of well-being travels along with a good run.
My Grandma Sommers drifted away from us on the tides of dementia. She also smoked. Watching her mental decline left indelible marks on my constitution. I do not want to end up in that state. Those marks have kept me far away from smoking and drive me to keep in good physical condition.
Perhaps this little gremlin has lived with me longer than I know. There were times in my childhood when it hurt to take a deep breath. We live next to one of the largest inland bodies of water, Lake Michigan. I always thought that it was related to the lake somehow. On sunny days (we lived about six miles away from the lake), I would get that sensation. There seemed to be a certain smell in the air. Growing up before ozone considered a problem, that may have been the trigger. Now I wonder whether asthma was setting up shop and decorating a bit. Instead of making an announcement, it baffled me with un-specific warnings.
The first time I was fully aware of something very wrong occurred when I was pregnant with my first child. One of my favorite forms of exercise is cycling (as in bicycle). My husband is pretty good at track racing and I was taking part in some races at the local velodrome (bicycle track). I pushed for all I was worth and crossed the line in extreme chest pain. Within a few minutes of stopping, the pain subsided. After a couple of go rounds like this, I took it to my doctor. He sent me for tests.
Because of the pregnancy, they decided I should be chemically challenged instead of physically. No treadmill to stimulate the lungs. Thinking back, if you are pregnant, should you ingest any such chemicals? They would administer a dose, allow them to take effect, and do a lung function test. At some point the tech frowned, said she would be back, and contacted the doctor. They halted the test at that point. End result, diagnosis: EIA.
After the birth of my daughter, we began treatment with inhaled steroids. No matter what I took, running really riled things up. Likewise, I could ride my bike comfortably most of the time, but racing took its toll. After many experiments with different inhalers on different schedules, I settled into a routine.
The problem with asthma (besides the big problem of having the breath squeezed out of you), is that it is often unpredictable. You could have a great day, or month even, then get clotheslined. A beautiful day becomes a struggle. Everybody else is feeling spunky and racing up the hill or to the stop sign and I am pedaling through muck. Well, that’s what it feels like. Legs move rather slowly when they don’t have the fuel (oxygen)to move them.
Always working to defeat the gremlin in my lungs, I read books and articles and eavesdrop on conversations. Trying this or that, from alfalfa pills to breathing techniques, the challenge is constantly before me. I have even tried journaling to attempt to figure out ‘triggers’. That actually helped me understand that emotions are a big part of my asthma. If I am depressed, upset, or tense, my breathing performance goes down. You look at that and say, “Of course!” I’m just a little too close to have understood just how important that is.
There is only one I can trust to keep me calm. I talk to Him every morning and occasionally write letters. These letters help unload the emotional burdens so I don’t have to take them on the bike. They also help me see when I am obsessing over the ‘small stuff’. I tend to have a one track mind, I’m learning ways to get away from obsessing and back to experiencing the other things life has to offer.
Blood tests consistently show me low in iron. That is one of the supplements I continue to take, along with magnesium and calcium. I could not begin to imagine why they help with breathing, except that iron helps red blood cells and red blood cells help carry oxygen.
When things get really bad, I hit it with everything I know. That goes all the way down to what kind of toothpaste I use. Really! There are (perhaps urban legend) stories about the ingredients in toothpaste for sensitive teeth helping with asthma. So, yes, I do use that kind of toothpaste on occasion. Since I don’t want to become used to it, I use it sparingly.
I continue to do my part and God continues to do his. I have actually felt a bit of a relief in the last two years. I don’t think God will cure me, though I’d be thrilled and praise Him if He did. God helps me through it with his peace, patience, and understanding. That makes all the difference.