Well, would you look at the time? It’s already past noon. I guess that’s what happens when you spend more than two hours with medical professionals who want to make sure you’re not going to collapse on them.
What’s that, you say? Nothing too major. Well, okay it was somewhat important. It’s just that something came up during the half marathon that I didn’t mention but which required a doctor’s appointment, which is where I’ve been today.
After I crossed the finish line on Sunday, I went immediately into what I now know was a full-on exercise-induced asthma attack. I had felt threatening wheezes since about the halfway point, so I should have been warned, but I was so focused on my goal that I pushed all other thoughts to the side. As soon as I stopped running, my lungs staged a coup — I clutched my chest and bent over, trying (and failing) to catch my breath. A race volunteer immediately took me to the medical tent, holding onto me the entire time. Within moments, there were several concerned medical types surrounding me like a pack of dogs on a three-legged cat. While listening to my lungs and heart and taking my blood pressure, they asked me questions about my previous asthma history. Previous asthma history? There was none. I mean, I’d know if I have asthma, right?
Wrong. This exercise-induced asthma stuff is real and I’ve actually had numerous episodes in the past two years and not known what they were. For example, there were the races where I gasped at the end and had a hard time getting back to normal respiration. And there was that run earlier this year that I had to cut short because I simply could not breathe, not to mention plenty of other times when drawing breath during a run was difficult. Oh, and there were the past two autumns and winters, when I wheezed every day for weeks, whether I ran or not.
Why didn’t I go to the doctor? Well, because I was running. A certain amount of shortness of breath is to be expected.
Getting back to Sunday: After several minutes, the wheezing abated and I was able to breathe more normally. The medical types eventually let me go, but not before telling me that I really should make an appointment with my doctor.
So I had my appointment this morning and, among other things, they made me breathe into a machine and not once did I exhale for the specified period of time because I was unable to do so. Suffice it to say, there’s a female medical professional here in town who is a little bit irritated with me for not realizing sooner that there was a problem. (“You could have DIED, Jen,” she said.) I am now chastened and promised to swing a full 180 degrees from macho chick to full-on hypochondriac. (“Just find balance Jen and DON’T START READING WEB MD!”)
Flash forward to now: I am now the owner of an inhaler that at first glance has more instructions for use than the space shuttle. (Remove this. Angle that. Shake the other. Breathe deeply. Put your right foot in and shake it all around.) I can still run, but I have a little medical running buddy that damn well better be in my pocket every time, plus I’ll be taking hits off said buddy before each and every run. And I’ll be back to see the smart medical folks in six weeks for follow-up and more testing.
So consider this your public service announcement for the day: If something seems wrong or at least off, don’t shrug it off. At the very least call the advice nurse who works with your doctor and run it by her.
And on that note, I need to go figure out which end is up with my new gadget and how I’m supposed to use it. Maybe I should name my little friend. Any thoughts?
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Holy. Shit. That is so terrifying. I’m relieved you at least kept your sense of humor intact while trying to cut off the oxygen flow to your brain…
This is such a funny post, for such a scary topic. “Well, because I was running.”
Emma has a form of asthma, so I’m familiar with both types of inhalers –the rescue inhaler, and the long-term steroid inhaler. Such fun. And I once had a student have a really scary asthma attack in class (notexercise induced) where I had to call the campus police and silently yell at her over and over “just don’t die right now” while they came galloping across to my classroom. It was incredibly scary for both of us.
I am REALLY glad you caught this without it killing you.
Scary!
I think I might have that… or else I was so out-of-shape 2 years ago that I had a panic attack on a strenuous hike when I couldn’t breathe. (I now try to not walk uphill too fast on a mountainside.) I’m told that as a baby, I would gasp and struggle for breath when first going out in cold winter air. Something about it being a shock to the lungs, I suppose. Should I panic??
My mom took voice lessons in her mid-60′s and her instructor asked about her asthma. Mom said, I don’t have asthma. But it turns out that her morning coughing was one of her symptoms and she became friends with an inhaler.
Name it Fred.
You are a tough chick…and I’m glad it worked out okay. I’m terrible about going to the doctor to get little things checked, but our MD moved cities, and we just got a new one who’s I just know is going to change all that. *whimper*
I’ve been known to be in denial a time or two about what turned out to be a serious medical condition myself. And I’m still not a hypochondriac. But it is good it was caught.
yes, I had the same bewildering experience while running 25 years ago, and carry an inhaler now for the same reasons. TERRIFYING. Glad you are OK!
I have been the same way about symptoms that medical folks have been amazed I let go, until I didn’t. Everyone has their tolerances – I am with you – pretty high tolerance! Glad you can still run, though.
Huh. I wondered when I saw that… glad it all turned out okay. Maybe that’s why I never run well? I have always blamed the elevation and being plain old lazy and inconsistent. : )
Glad to hear you are okay. Please follow orders. And I’m glad 1. you didn’t die and 2. you won’t have to be sidelined by this–with many precautions but you can still keep running.
I had the same problem in MA, but only in cool and cold weather. Since I moved to Florida I ditched both inhalers. Mine was reactive airways, triggered by the cold air.
You should definately carry the inhaler when you run.
oh boy. I’m glad you got a diagnosis, Jen. I have to wonder if you did step away from WebMD?? it would be so hard not to swing the other way…I’d name her Frieda. I can relate, had asthma for 11 years—none whatsoever up to that point, but when your body cannot keep the triggers at bay, it goes down. Mine were cutting dry yellow grass, 2 dogs, flea bomb chemicals, and small house. All together, it laid me under. I had inhalers on hand at all times, and benedryl was my friend. This was from 1987 to 1998. Moved to a new house (well ventilated) no more dogs in the house, and chemicals were pretty much no where. I have not had an asthma attack since then. Since 1998. None. No more inhalers “just in case” either! I hope you eventually can ditch yours too. It’s weird to have it come on out of nowhere. But, exercise induced, or cold induced, you just never know.
whew!
Jen!
Gosh. Youngest, as you are probably aware, has Serious Chronic Asthma, and has had it since he was a newborn. It’s dangerous and I’m so glad you went to the doctor.
I think we’ve had every inhaler ever made in the last 20 years and I’m pleased to say there have been great advancements.
If you ever want to have a chat you know where to find me!
I’m so glad you went to the doctor!