D on the Report Card Pt 1

All I heard were the words "lung disease".  I really didn't hear what the doctor said before those words, or after.  I'm not being dramatic; I really couldn't tell you what she said.  This was my follow-up appointment after breathing tests and what I've suspected to have become asthma.

Let me begin from the beginning.  My parents both smoked.  I had been smoking for a year when they found out.  My mother cried.  At the time, I might've rolled my eyes at all that, but I understand now why she cried.  To tell the truth, I took up smoking because I thought I was a fat girl and no one liked me because I fat & ugly.  If I had a cigarette in my mouth, I would eat less.  To tell a bit of more truth, I was maybe only ten pounds over weight and no one liked me because I just didn't fit in.  I was 15 years old.

Now, what really makes that interesting is that I later gained 30 or 40 pounds, lost it all and began begging God to help me quit smoking.  A little more than ten years ago, my mom was diagnosed with emphysema.  The doctor told her if she did not quit smoking, she'd only live ten years.

Mom and I both quit smoking about a year ago using the Electronic Cigarette, or better known as the e-cig.  We'd both tried everything from nicotine gum to hypnosis and cold-laser therapy.  I love my e-cig.  I can use it inside at work, I've used it in restaurants where smoking has been banned.  I love the taste, the feel of it on my throat as I inhale.  It's not much more than liquid nicotine and a few additives for flavor.  It inhales like a cigarette, makes fog (or steam) similar to cigarette smoke.

For the last few months I've desperately wanted to quit though.  There's a bit of a hassle because you have extra parts, batteries and since I can hardly put the thing down, I am usually trying to do everything with one hand.  But I miss my old tiny purse.  I envy those in line at grocery store checkouts that are simply impatient for waiting, not anxious to get a fix. 

These people don't even know what it's like.  To need it, to want it, to not to be able to function without it.  And I yearn to be like them!

About six months ago the city began tearing up our neighborhood to install new water lines.  I had developed a nasty cough and some breathing issues.  I assumed it was from the extra dust.  I also threw in the fact that at work, we had just taken in twenty years' worth of mildewy, moldy clothing from the high school drama department.  Being a dry cleaner has few advantages.

On Christmas day I was struggling for air.  I hit my mom's asthma inhaler and it helped a lot.  I saw Dr. Mattson and explained my whole story.  She gave me Asmanex, a preventative-repair type inhaler and Albuterol, a rescue inhaler.  Both are quite expensive.

The first day I had the Albuterol, I had a rough night.  I was sitting on the edge of the bed, struggling to inahle.  It was like always, as though someone had sucked all the oxygen out the room.  I took 2 hits from the inhaler and it was nothing like the over-the-counter Primitine.  It was magical!  Within seconds, I could inhale.  Air was reaching my lungs and I could breathe like someone let the oxygen back into the room.

Shawn has smoked since he was about 13 years old.  Soon after I quit on the e-cig, he did too!  ....For one full month.  Some stuff was happening, he was stressed out, and he never tried to quit again.  Here's the thing though: his smoking affected my breathing.  I smoked for years and years and I could breathe OK around it.  Suddenly, it was like I just could not be around it.

Three weeks after my first visit, Dr. Mattson gave me the results of my breathing tests.  "It's like you got a 'D' on your report card," is the easy explanation.  I could have asthma and/or emphysema.  She wants me to continue the Asmanex for 3 months.  If my breathing does not improve, she said I definetely have emphysema.

For crying out loud, I'm only 29!  I'm not yet thirty years old!  Dr. Mattson said it's most likely caused more by smoking than my job as a dry cleaner so she urged me to quit the e-cig.  She also advised wearing a mask at work but that probably ain't gonna happen.

At the clinic, I was pretty cool and soaked up all this information.  I was sent for blood tests for another issue I'm having, and I was really OK with everything.  I had just enough time to run to the grocery store before heading home.

Maybe it's because I was on my period but I felt the overwhelming need to cry as I walked down the soda aisle.  And every aisle thereafter.  A great fear swept over me.  Quitting smoking is hard enough and now I have to give up this e-cig?  What if I can't do it?  Shawn smokes so I'll smell it there!  And there's cigarettes int he house.  What if I go back to smoking cigarettes?  Emphysema?!!!  I've seen the problems Mom has, how it weakens her.  And it cannot be cured!  OH GOD WHY DID I START SMOKING?  I WISH I'D NEVER STARTED SMOKING!!!!

On the drive home, I had a small panic attack.  I haven't had one in a while.  I was getting on to the interstate, hyperventilating and crying because I was so scared about quitting this e-cig.