I’m late posting this, because I’ve been struggling to breathe. Most people don’t have to think about their lungs. Part of the autonomic nervous system, they automatically take in oxygen and expel carbon dioxide around 20,000 times a day. But for people like me, breathing is more complicated. With all the smoke currently in the air, my lungs feel sore and defeated.
The first time I had a bronchial infection, I was four months old. But it wasn’t until I was in my late twenties that I was finally diagnosed with asthma.
Between these two events, I struggled. At my elementary school, P.E. included twice yearly tests, where the teachers stood with stopwatches and clipboards and noted how many chin ups, pushups, and sit ups we could do in the allotted time. President Gerald Ford himself, we were told, had set these standards to help us get fit.
They did not help me. The six-minute walk and run was my nemesis. Our teacher pointed out two lines on the blacktop, between which we needed to run until she called time. “Go as quickly as you can,” she said, “and walk only if you must.” Year after year, I was lapped over and over by my peers, as I struggled to breathe. Afterward, my spit tasted like blood for hours, and my lungs felt as if they were pincushions stuck full of needles. I thought everyone must feel what I felt, and it was due to my own failing that I struggled.
In my early twenties, a supervisor wrote me up. “Get more healthy,” she admonished, in response to my being off sick with a bronchial infection for two weeks. I was ashamed at my body’s betrayal of me. But getting more healthy was as impossible for me as genie-ing myself to Paris. I already exercised, drank lots of water, ate healthy food, and rarely stayed out late. Some of my coworkers partied nearly every night, and never missed a day’s work. That’s when I realized that some of us are just more prone to illness than others. My body wasn’t betraying me, it was just being my body.
Fourteen years ago, I had to stop working because of my health. As year has passed into year, other chronic illnesses have joined my lungs, until I’ve come to dread the next occupant that comes along. And there will be a next one – there always is.
Most recently, on a rare clear day, when my lungs felt good, I decided to go on a hike. We have a state park just down the road from us, and I love getting exercise and watching all the birds and wildlife. I started out on the dirt trail, and had only just gotten to the edge of the Carquinez Strait, along which this path wanders, when suddenly, I was airborne. I struggled to regain my balance like a cartoon character who realizes they have just run off the edge of a cliff, but failed. I landed on my left knee, then my right, then hands and elbow. Covered with blood, I walked back to my car and drove myself home. When I took off my pants to look at the damage, my left knee had a deep horseshoe-shaped gash, and I could see pale white of my cartilage. I thought of driving myself to urgent care, but found myself going into shock.
Six hours and twenty-two stitches later, I’m now in a knee immobilizer for two weeks. So much for going on a hike. But I’m grateful I didn’t break anything, including my head.
Over the past years, I’ve realized that, while I didn’t get a body that can run marathons, I did get one that keeps trying and trying no matter how difficult the next bang is. I am grateful for my mind, with which I can read and write, and my hands, however crooked, that tend my garden. I have a roof over my head, and food in my belly. I am loved by, and I love, my beautiful wife, Birte, and our daughter, Neysa, who will always be my heart. I have my dog, Nalani who, at eleven years old, is still eager to comfort me long before I know I’m in need of comforting.
And I’ve realized that we all have stories; we all suffer.
I was at Disneyland once as a young adult, waiting in an interminable line for Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, when two small children popped in front of me to be with their mother. They were British, and the children, a boy and a girl, whined, “But Mummy, it’s not fair!”
“Life’s not fair,” she snapped. “Get used to it.”
I often think about that woman at Disneyland all those years ago, and her two, now middle-aged kids. And I agree with her: life isn’t fair. But it sure has its beauty, doesn’t it?
Jannette, thank you for sharing your life, in such a touching way. Though my lungs have worked pretty well for the last decade, prior to that I would get severe bronchitis and pleurisy several times a year. It always started as a mild cold and inevitability progressed. I still have emergency inhalers. Your blogs are a good reminder that we cannot know the burden that others carry unless we are willing to allow relationships to blossom.
Patti, You’re absolutely right – we have no idea of the struggles of others. I’m glad your lungs have been better, and hope they stay that way!
Dear Janet, I am enjoying learning more about you. Although we have only met once, I feel like I know you better now. The love you show Nalani reflects in her eyes. You have a beautiful family. Thank you for sharing.❤ Judi
Thank you, Judy!
I understand your pain all too well. I was always healthy growing up but in March I ended up in the ICU with a collapsed left lung due to pneumonia. I struggled to get strong again but after another surgery last month they had to collapse my right lung to gain access. Of course now we have the wildfires and my lungs are not happy. Life isn’t fair but you are right about being blessed with so many other things that enrich our lives. One of my lung exercises is to watch the minute hand on the clock while I breathe deeply. The simple act of filling our lungs makes us appreciate the gift of life.
Well said, Suzy. I’m so sorry about your lungs. I like the breathing tip: very helpful.
Thank you for sharing Janette! I really admire your strength and spirit💜So glad we’ve become closer and I’m hoping you and Birte (the girl too!!) will visit me soon!
Thanks, Leslie! I look forward to the time we can come visit you!!
Dear one. Beautifully written. Generously shared. Gratefully received. Deenpp
Thanks, Deen!
Oh dear! How incredibly heart rending is your story. Take care!
Thank you, Carol!
You do such a good job of describing what it is like to live with chronic health problem and the body that “tries and tries” despite all the obstacles. Thank you so much for sharing (and I hope your knee recovers quickly!) xo
Thanks, Elizabeth! I just learned today that it’s infected. Got an antibiotic shot and will take oral antibiotics for 10 days.
Dear Janette, thank you for sharing your journey with a struggling but very feisty body. I’m just as grateful for the escape your beautiful mind allows.
Love the photo of the four year old you.
Thank you, Theresa!
Hi Janette. Thank you for sharing this blog with us. I’m not sure how to get signed up to receive it regularly, but you can put me on the list. I am always encouraged myself when I meet women who have dealt with struggles all of their lives and pushed on, finding ways to enJOY life. I sometimes think it taste sweeter when you overcome or learn to live with, except or adapt to the struggles. I was facing him in a new replacement surgery this summer when I found a chiropractor with a method that strengthen to my knee. It allowed me to go through with a month long road trip I had been planning for months to see my great granddaughter in Tennessee who was born November 3, 2020. The story I wrote for the group this week talked about this important trip. When I get back I am facing eye surgery, and at some point knee surgery, and I too struggle with breath and stamina and severe arthritis, but every step I take each day and everything I get to do that fills me with joy is a gift appreciated. I wish you a good and solid recovery from this fall. I love to hike, but often thank it and safe to go out by myself. On the other hand, I don’t want people to see me struggling. or limping. That causes all kinds of questions I just don’t feel like answering because I want to remain upbeat, especially when I’m on a walk. So I do a lot of walking around town on my own. That way I can choose the hills, to the length of the walk, and head home if I get tired my knee starts to feel wonky. Well I’ve gone on and on. I just want you to know that I admire your strength and willingness to share. I think this is what helps most women to bond so much more easily than most men, the willingness to share.
I’m sorry you struggle, too, but also glad to know this about you! It certainly builds character, doesn’t it?
Hi Janette,
Yours is a remarkable story of perseverance. Yes, life isn’t fair. All we can do is make the best of it with what we have. As I get older I’m finding I have to depend on resources I didn’t think I had or needed to have in order to get along with my life. Thanks for giving us an example of resilience. I needed that! And thanks for your excellent contributions to the Writer’s Workshop!
Thank YOU, Jim! I love being part of the Writer’s Workshop, and am glad to be getting to know you and the others.