NYCweboy

Only When I Laugh

The trouble with trying to resume blogging - often, I'm finding - is that life intervenes. Work beckons, friendships suffer... and my health waxes and wanes. I wasn't expecting to battle a hard chest cold while getting back in the groove of writing, but there it was.

The problem wasn't so much the sniffling or sore throat as it was the cough that settled in my chest - that, apparently, was a recurrence of asthma, something that hasn't happened in some time. I'm not so foolish as to believe that allergies simply vanish, but for whatever reason, my allergic reactions had been pretty well in check for a long, long time. And now, suddenly, it isn't.

It's funny, I find, this problem of struggling to breathe. Over time, it's made me actually calmer, more patient. Freaking out, anxiousness... that just leads to more gasping. Gasping is bad. Keeping calm, trying to stay normal, that's good. If I've been wheezing as badly as I was in the past few weeks, I never really noticed. But the last few weeks, the coughing never stopped, and no over the counter medicine seemed to quell it.

I could put in a good word for "Obamacare" here and the nice health plan I've gotten since the exchanges opened, but it seems silly. Healthcare may be my issue, but getting care was never really my problem. When one is sick, it's time to get help. That's just what you do. The rest is details. And details, still, are where we need better health policy.

In any case, I digress. The thing about asthma, for me, is how it freaks out everyone else. Show up at an emergency room claiming shortness of breath, and you're pretty much first in line. Tell your friends and coworkers and most will look aghast as if you could die at any moment. And yeah, I suppose, that's one way to see it. I just find it annoying and rather inconvenient.

I'm better now - I've been taking medicine, and the short burst of hard steroids is over so I don't feel quite so out of sync. This is my first time trying Advair, and it's helpful, though inhaling dust hardly seems like the best drug delivery system I've encountered, and not something I'm dying (er, oops) to do long term. The wheezing has been greatly reduced, the cough is rarer, and the cold finally seems to be all but gone. It's only when I laugh that I get into trouble, when I laugh so hard I can't quite catch my breath... and then, blam, I actually have no breath. It's ruined my timing. I can't reel off my witty comebacks. My poor companions realize they've brought imminent death rather than joy.

This, too, I figure, should pass. I know I'm probably doing okay because I still have a sense of humor about the situation. Asthma's not so bad... except when I laugh. And even that won't get me down. Just breathe. And carry on.

Only When I Laugh

The trouble with trying to resume blogging - often, I'm finding - is that life intervenes. Work beckons, friendships suffer... and my health waxes and wanes. I wasn't expecting to battle a hard chest cold while getting back in the groove of writing, but there it was.

The problem wasn't so much the sniffling or sore throat as it was the cough that settled in my chest - that, apparently, was a recurrence of asthma, something that hasn't happened in some time. I'm not so foolish as to believe that allergies simply vanish, but for whatever reason, my allergic reactions had been pretty well in check for a long, long time. And now, suddenly, it isn't.

It's funny, I find, this problem of struggling to breathe. Over time, it's made me actually calmer, more patient. Freaking out, anxiousness... that just leads to more gasping. Gasping is bad. Keeping calm, trying to stay normal, that's good. If I've been wheezing as badly as I was in the past few weeks, I never really noticed. But the last few weeks, the coughing never stopped, and no over the counter medicine seemed to quell it.

I could put in a good word for "Obamacare" here and the nice health plan I've gotten since the exchanges opened, but it seems silly. Healthcare may be my issue, but getting care was never really my problem. When one is sick, it's time to get help. That's just what you do. The rest is details. And details, still, are where we need better health policy.

In any case, I digress. The thing about asthma, for me, is how it freaks out everyone else. Show up at an emergency room claiming shortness of breath, and you're pretty much first in line. Tell your friends and coworkers and most will look aghast as if you could die at any moment. And yeah, I suppose, that's one way to see it. I just find it annoying and rather inconvenient.

I'm better now - I've been taking medicine, and the short burst of hard steroids is over so I don't feel quite so out of sync. This is my first tie trying Advair, and it's helpful, though inhaling dust hardly seems like the best drug delivery system I've encountered, and not something I'm dying (er, oops) to do long term. The wheezing has been greatly reduced, the cough is rarer, and the cold finally seems to be all but gone. It's only when I laugh that I get into trouble, when I laugh so hard I can't quite catch my breath... and then, blam, I actually have no breath. It's ruined my timing. I can't reel off my witty comebacks. My poor companions realize they've brought imminent death rather than joy.

This, too, I figure, should pass. I know I'm probably doing okay because I still have a sense of humor about the situation. Asthma's not so bad... except when I laugh. And even that won't get me down. Just breathe. And carry on.