I've had asthma my whole life and never thought of it as some 'disease'. I knew it was a bother and that my parents had to take all kinds of precautions with me as a child. But, I never felt that I was at any 'risk' or in any 'danger'. I remember times that I ended up in a hospital and because it was a teaching hospital there would always be doctors coming around to do tests or to listen for the 'crackles' or wheezing.
It got to a point as a child that any time I saw a doctor approach I would lift my hospital pajama top up so they could listen to my lungs. It never bothered me that I remember. Mind you, I don't do that NOW when a doctor approaches me. Also as a kid, I had all kinds of scratch tests and breathing tests and x-rays and stuff. I used to have to go every week to get an allergy shot of some sort just to keep the hay fever under control and thus my asthma. Scratch tests were terrible as they were testing to see what you were allergic to. They made little pen marks on your arms(s) and beside each one made a tiny scratch with the point of a needle. Then a drop from each little vial of possible allergens was applied to its appropriate mark. If you had a reaction to something then the area they were testing would get swollen and then very itchy, but you can't scratch because it could interfere with the other places on the arm(s).
I remember when we would, as a family, go for a drive in the country. If we went down a dusty road, all the windows went up and the vents were turned off. If we drove past anyplace that was cutting straw or hay, same thing. It used to really bother my brothers and myself because it gets hot inside a car pretty quickly when you have two adults and four children in there.
Despite all this I grew up with a pretty healthy attitude about my 'disease'. It always surprised me when people made a fuss about the fact that I had ...... "ASTHMA".....
I remember having a bad night about four days after my brother had gone to hospital with his asthma. They admitted him and then one night my parents came home from visiting him to have the babysitter tell them how bad I was. Back to the hospital we go. So for about a week or so my Mum and Dad had their two oldest children in the hospital for the same thing and the other boys still at home. I don't know how they managed. I DO know that I thought it was an adventure in that I was 'away' with my brother and, even though we were in different areas of the hospital due to our age difference, he would come visit me or I would go track him down and we would play games or stuff.
I was always happy yo see my Mum and Dad when they came and they always brought a little surprise. One time it was a sleeve of tea biscuits, that I kept in my drawer ond doled as as I saw fit. Another time my Dad brought me this end of the roll newsprint. He worked at the Toronto Star then and sometimes the employees could bring home the end of the roll after a newspaper run. Can you imagine as a kid having a blank piece of seemingly endless blank newsprint to draw on? You could lay it on the floor in the hospital and draw what ever you wanted. Everyone just walked around you.
I guess I'm just thinking about how different things are now.
l find it interesting that I have to wear a Medic Alert bracelet that warns of my asthma. Oh, by the way, the only 'traumatic' thing that happened to me because of the asthma was when I was a teenager. I had to have a test done on my kidneys. The doctor told my Mum that the chance of me reacting to the dye they would have to use was like 1 in 100,000, but just to be safe we should have the test done at the hospital.
The doctor said to me you'll probably be fine and I remember saying 'with odds like that what do you want to bet that I'll react'? He just chuckled and I went home. We go to the hospital later that week and they hook me up. They say "we're injecting the dye now. How do you feel?"
I said "Fine," then almost immediately I remember saying "Oooohhh its getting dark in here." The next thing I knew I woke up in the recovery room, my Mum was absolutely frantic and I was covered in hives.
Apparently anaphylaxis is not good. I caused quite the stir in the hospital and had all kinds of doctors excited because they got to see a real, almost, fatal reaction. I guess when you're learning its nice to see what would happen. I just remember that my Mum was scared witless.
Me...
I took it in stride and remembered to tell the doctor " I told you I'd react."
Its odd how some kids grew up petrified of needles and to this day can't stand them. Whereas I see a needle coming and my veins are jumping saying here we are, come poke us.
Needles don't bother me. AT ALL. I have to get my blood tested every week to ten days now because of warfarin, but still it doesn't bother me.I think its because it was just treated as something that happens rather than this big scary thing and all this reassurance and talking about it. My folks just took me to the doctor and chatted about stuff and I read a book or played with the toys and dutifully walked in, got my shot, and waited till I was free to go. Then I went back to being a kid.
I guess my folks did a damn good job of getting me through childhood.
