I was at the doctor’s this morning. He couldn’t remember if I had an inhaler. I happened to bring the piece of shit thing that had never done anything for me. Though I read about inhalers and understood that they helped, in my muddled brain, they were only for emergencies.
His physician’s assistant had prescribed it. She didn’t offer refills and made it seem as if it were for life and death scenarios. I read up on it and knew that not to be true. Though for some reason I didn’t question her reasoning-and followed it.
The PA once told me that I have “bad genes.” If you aren’t a geneticist never tell a patient that. Make sure that patient isn’t an adoptee who knows virtually nothing about her birth father and his family. Not. Good. Form.
Even in my altered less effectual state I knew that was absurd and told the doctor. Others complained and she was fired.
My doctor and I have a good relationship–plus I have seen many specialists that touch on pulmonary problems. But the inhaler was never discussed. I take full responsibility for being an idiot.
I have always asked many questions yet somehow I thought it fine for me to suffer needlessly.
I handed him the inhaler this morning and muttered something about it being worthless.
He agreed and told me that he was going to a prescribe a much stronger inhaler that would actually work. I could use it whenever I needed it–as long as I didn’t use more than two very deep puffs at a time and gave five refills. He showed me exactly how to use it. Easy peasy.
I used it for the first time a little while ago.
Then I walked upstairs to my office. Wow. I realized I hadn’t noticed that I had become used to being out of breath. I only realized this as I wasn’t out of breath.
I feel as if the cognitive abilities I was sure I lost are beginning to return. Yes. I. Know. About. The Placebo Affect. For some reason I’m sure this isn’t a placebo.
I’m still very congested. Still on codeine (but this isn’t a stoned rapture–I hate codeine) still on antibiotics–but they’ve never made me feel good until after finishing the script.
I know I have my future back.
Life’s exciting again.
I will be able to take the walks that made me thrive.
Thrilling–it feels thrilling to write the book that once gave me so much satisfaction and then made me feel as if I were a caricature who thinks anybody can write.
Satisfying–I know this journey is leading me towards satisfaction.
Free–I could spend the rest of the night and all of tomorrow describing how I finally feel free–in every way and meaning.
Suffering–I go on and on about how nobody should suffer but for some reason that didn’t apply to me. Wow! It does now.
Whatever turns out to be wrong with me doesn’t matter.
Words are already coming to me a bit more rapidly
02/13/2014–the date of my rebirth.