If only I could find them on Craigs list...

New lungs that is.

I spent 6 months of 2009 on this wonderful (yet powerful and with some possible scary side-effects) drug and had no asthma symptoms for about 8 months...maybe 9.

I got kinda used to feeling normal, to not worrying about whther I had an inhaler at my side constantly. I loved not planning my day around breathing, or the lack there of.

Then Christmas time came...and so did my in law's house. Brian's family (sans Gram) all smoke in the house, and have 3 cats. The 3 cats alone in a carpeted house can knock me on my behind in far less than an hour, but add the house marinated in stale smoke, and here I am over a week later and still unable to leave my inhalers side. I have done more asthma meds in the last week than I have in the last 6 months. So a big chunk of me wants to say, no mas, I will not go to thier house any longer. But how crappy is that, "Sorry family, you make me sick, literally." "I'll just sit outside as you eat dinner."

Now, I realize that I was quite spoiled the months I was symptom free, and that's NOT notmal for me, but sigh, I was hoping it was around to stay. The fact that I have been "smoking my pipe" as my grandpa always called it (doing brething treatments) is my normal. Having to avoid stairs, and long walks, and all cats IS my normal. But I hate normal. I hate that my body is one of my biggest enemies.

I envy people who get to say "I don't like to take presciption drugs." yeah, me either, but I have no choice in the matter.I hate that I have to take more steriods than a professional baseball player.

I had a respitory therapist tell me once that most asthmatics don't complain about thier symptoms until they have lost 60% of thier air capacity. Now, I thought he was dramatic, I thoguht he was trying to put the fear of God into me. Then about a year or so ago, I was heading to the dr for a pulminary function test, and I was running late. I felt a little wheezy, but not enough to change my day. I ran across the pasking lot, carrying Chloe, in heels, dragging Serena by the arm, and into the office. There I took the test and scored about %60. The nurse looked at me with wide eyes and asked if I was "ok", and I said, "Yeah, just a little tight." It finally sank in, I had lost almost half of my lung capacity and I still ran in carrying a child, without much complaint. Long story short, my lungs are underacheivers, and I am apparently immune to it until it's dangerous.

Now if my mom is reading this she is probably ready to call me and say "Kathy, why do you even go there? WHy do you do this to yourself?" And she'd be right, it's stupid to go somewhere that makes me so sick, but avoiding life sucks. Avoiding life because my lungs will react kills me. I hated being the sick kid, and I hate even more being the sick mom. A 3 year old doesn't get why we can't go to the park today, or why I can't carry her for more than 10 feet. Serena kinda gets it, but she's had almost 8 years experience with it.

So, life will go on, eventually my lungs will stop pouting about going to Gram's house, I just wish they'd throw less tantrums than my 3 year old.