Fun with Brain/Body interactions: What my asthma attacks look like

[I appreciate I kind of turn into the All Asthma All The Time channel occasionally, but this is how I learn. And it may help people who know (and presumably love) me to recognise the signs and poke me before it gets too far and I ruin the mood by being that panicky flail-y keel-over-dead person who's always such a bore at social gatherings. I don't think it'll be necessary, but one never knows.]

The annoying thing about having an asthma attack¹ is how stupid I feel for not recognising it by now. I kick myself for fretting and being anxious and indulging in doom and gloom thinking and oh gods, I'm such a pathetic hypochondriac. Outside warning signs: fidgeting (more than usual), reaching for my glass/cup a lot, yawning/sighing a lot. I can be distracted and slightly snappish. I don't wheeze. I don't complain about shortness of breath (if I say anything at all, I might mention I'm feeling a bit twitchy).

Eventually I realise I'm holding my breath or thinking about breathing constantly and I reach for the emergency inhaler. There's an interval in which I honestly, truly think that this is not asthma, I've been having a pain in my left leg for over a week and oh gods, it's a pulmonary embolism and I'm going to die and then the salbutamol kicks in and I feel so relieved I cry. This one's visible, unsurprisingly. I'm likely apologising for making a fuss and for being weird and oh god, oxygen is my best friend ever! And then I'm weepy with relief and stress and anxiety for a while longer, because that's just how adrenaline come-down works for me. I may or may not be pathetically asking for hugs. I will probably want to talk about the bit where I totally nearly just died. I realise this is not exactly fun for all the family and it sure as hell is not fun from this side either. Just bear with me. Possibly tell me bad off-colour jokes.

See, the single most distressing thing about having an asthma attack² is how incredibly anxious and scared I get every single time. You'd think eventually your brain and body learn that this is business as usual and there's no need to go into full panic mode every time there's a blip on the radar. But of course it won't ever learn because we're fucking around with a survival necessity here and a brain/body that doesn't start getting at least mildly distressed at not getting sufficient air is not one long for this world. So out come the flashing red lights and the whoopwhooping and the 'this is not a drill! I repeat, this is not a drill!' survival instincts.

I don't want to make a scene. I'm not trying to be the centre of attention and being put there because of an attack will likely make it worse because whoo, social anxiety! The thing is, I can't stop it by willpower. I can't control it once it gets going. All there is is emergency relief and riding it out.

Huh. I've just described an almost classic panic attack. This makes absolute sense, with the difference that I can't stop a 'normal' panic attack with a blue inhaler.

Also, I'm calling the GP tomorrow to see if this is normal or if we need to up my steroids.

¹ You know, apart from that pesky not being able to breathe properly thing.
² See ¹.

Great Squid be Praised!

Goodness, this GP certainly doesn't mess around. I got crow-barred into an appointment this morning and came out with a new prescription for 200mcg Clenil Modulite, which is twice my current prescription. I can still use my current inhaler and just double up on puffs until it's empty. I'm due back on November 1st for a further check up. My lungs are clear and there's no infection, but my best peak flow was 340. Considering the average for a woman my age, weight and height is around 470/480, there's room for improvement.

Now that I've mostly gone through the whole "I have asthma? Really?"^* I think I'll get a peak flow meter from the pharmacy tomorrow and start recording some stuff.

^*This is somewhat difficult to explain, but it's akin to Impostor Syndrome, but rather than having difficulties internalising accomplishments, I have difficulties internalising the fact that I have this health issue. See, pain I understand. Pain and me, we're like this. Pain's got my back (and my hip, in all honesty). I am not in any doubt about the presence of pain in my life and what's causing it. But asthma...I just can't quite believe that. It's just...really? It's that simple? Here, have some medicine and be on your way? But what if it's not? What if it's all psychosomatic? Part of me is convinced that if I give the wrong answers, I'll get found out for the hypochondriac I am and they will take the medicine away. Possibly while laughing at me over posh drinks. I'm getting better and I don't really think I am a hypochondriac (or at least no more so than any other human with health issues), but occasionally someone will say something or I will read something and away we go.