|"I felt like I was going to die and my emotions were set to overdrive"
||[Jan. 30th, 2009|04:06 pm]
Last night wasn't the worse night of my life... But it was close.|
Last night wasn't a near-death experience... But it was close.
Why am I cursed with this condition?! If I had to define my top two favorite things in the world it would be Videogames and cats. I love cats, I just want to hug that bundle of cute and nap with one, but that would kill me. I'm allergic to cats. Terribly allergic. I question why would I be cursed with such a deficiency?! Now if being allergic wasn't bad enough, I also have asthma, which I had thought was well-contained aside from the fact that me smoking has forced me to use my inhalers daily.
Anyway, despite having been hospitalized for this before and repeating to my sister not to let the cats roam free inside of our house (we have five) she let's them in. I started to struggle on my breathing as when she let them out I vacuumed and hoped it'd get better. A few hours later (11PM) she lets them back in again and I was forced to use my inhalers again (too close to the last time I used it). Normally my breathing would be back to normal, but this time it wasn't. The next 9 hours of my life was became the most excruciating hours I had ever endure having an asthma attack. Now, it gets worse. Your lungs are tight and you can't inhale. Think about blowing a balloon for the first time. That's how much strength and force you need to apply to every time you inhale to gasp a breath of air as your lungs vibrate with an uncomfortable wheeze when you exhale. Now everyone can blow a balloon up for the first time, it's a little tense moment at first but everyone can do it. Now imagine blowing up a brand new balloon every time you finish blowing the first. That's what it's like for every breath you inhale when you are having an asthma attack. Normally inhalers relieves you from this strain for a couple of hours, but if it fails... Well you're basically fucked.
I have this breath checking meter that tests your how much air you exhale and you can judge whether it's normal or in critical shape. 580 is what a normal individual has at my height, 300 is the lowest of the safe zone. I hit 220, which a very bad state. My mom just urging me to go to the hospital, but I just got laid off from my job and I can't be spending ridiculous amounts of money so that they can cure me for a few hours after a long wait, then I go back home and I'm triggered again because the cat dander is still lingering in the house. And by this time it was near midnight and I was really in no mood to leave the house. So instead I sat through every damn second of it blowing up a brand new balloon every breath I take in (metaphorically speaking) for the next 8 hours. Within the first 30 minutes my lungs were painfully exhausted and my back was sore from all the intense struggling and coughing. Keep in mind through the remainder of these hours it is the middle of the night, everybody is sleeping: family and online friends alike. I sat alone in my room telling myself every 10-20 minutes that I'll be damned if I have to go back to the hospital for this shit again.
Hours into the intense struggle I tried to read the current book I was reading Star Trek Terok Nor Dawn of the Eagles (yeah, I'm a geek, shup!). My imagination was not cooperating with me and my struggle. Instead I found myself looking through people's myspaces and livejournals reading what ever I found entertaining while I endured my scenario. Btw, thank you Emily, Kimberly, and Selphie for keeping your journals an enjoyable read it has helped a great deal =). The rest of the time after that videogames helped me keep my sanity because my condition had not improved. Time after time I would check my air-flow and I was still linger around 220 or slightly lower. I was able to trick it by exhaling in a certain way to obtain near a safe 300, but I'm sure that's not how it works. During these tough hours so many thoughts have come to my head. Who would live with me in the future knowing they can't have an indoor cat (don't ask why I thought of this, I just did.)? I looked at the box of cigarettes on my desk that I sometimes socially smoke and sometimes I just smoke and wondered how could I be putting myself into a slow torture. I thought why couldn't I be allergic to something else, why cats? Also weeks ago I looked back at how I'm a hardcore gamer. I lack confidence in myself and have social skills that is equivalent to manure in person because I come into contact with face-to-face irregularly. I've become timid in front of people and I really want to change that before it's too late. But here's videogames to the rescue keeping me reasonably content while I wanted to rip my lungs out and say, "fuck this, I give up." At the 6 hour point I questioned whether I should try to take my inhaler again, but I figured I took my last two dangerously close together that I may be at some risk of to be pushing it too soon.
At the 8th hour mark (it's like 7am), I have no slept and my body was feeling the toll, but I could not pay it because it was still working hard to pump air in and out. However, I was happy to know I can finally consider scheduling an appointment with my doctor and perhaps get a new drug prescribed to me that would help me better than my current generic brand inhalers. Well, being unemployed with a decent purse of change, I haven't been paying attention to the date and it was the first day of the weekend. I won't be able to go to the doctor until Monday. At this point I reconsidered going to the hospital because I could not stay up without sleep and struggling to breathe with my exhausted, hurting lungs anymore. My lungs didn't feel up for another puff of the inhaler as if I had already overdosed once and it was not willing to accept the drugs again. Its like a hangover that you're trying to undo with drinking (I've been told that works). Well anyway, I took it anyway, and Geezus F Cryst! It does feel better. My FloMeter (the thing that rates my breathing) is telling me I'm breathing out a near normal 280. I can definitely live with that. And with that said I was able to get a much needed 3 hours of sleep with my lungs stressing a lot less.
Here I am now, writing a journal as if I've gone through a war alone. It certainly felt like that. With everyone asleep and not a single person to talk with, it seemed like reading those people's journals was like me reading the journals of people as I am the last survivor on Earth. It brought warm feelings that I needed and I know that sounds really corny, but seriously.. I felt like I was going to die and my emotions were set to overdrive. This has been a life lesson for me despite the fact that this was actually caused by my sister's lack of common sense. But I have been taking my lungs and my health for granted. I know I shouldn't be smoking and though I coincidentally decided to stop a few days ago, I had the intention of going back. I shouldn't, but it's hard for many reasons I shouldn't get into because it's a whole new journal entry in itself. This time of the year is particularly difficult however because one of the two things that keeps me from smoking is getting involved with sports. With the weather and quick approaching darkness I can't do much with the friends who lack commitment to sport. Well in either case, I definitely don't feel like smoking right now, despite that being the problem or not. I'm sure it'll help me one way or another.