LilyBiggs

The closest thing that I can describe having an asthma attack to is being chained to the bottom of a pool and drowning while you see your friends at the surface in floaties and having fun. You know what breathing normally is like, hopefully that feeling will go away soon. Until then, it feels like you’re dying.

Asthma is way more common than one would think. 7% of all Marian girls have it. 8.3% of all Americans have it. 

But what actually is asthma? When you have an asthma attack, your airways essentially constrict. It can be caused by various different things: allergies, athletics, pure chance and more. Because your airways are constricted, your body can’t get the air you need to breathe. That infamous wheezing sound is the sound of the air trying to get out and into your body while being blocked.

Wheezing isn’t controllable. There are various degrees to it. I have pretty bad asthma, so on a normal day, I could breathe out heavily and make some form of noise. On a bad day, almost every single person within a ten-foot radius can hear it.

Asthma is genetic. My mom has it, too. It’s convenient for both of us since we can check up on each other when our asthma gets bad. For example, last summer when the Canadian fires brought the smoke down to America, we let each other know when it was going to be extra smoky and helped each other out.

I don’t remember when I was officially diagnosed with asthma, but it explains a lot looking back at my elementary school years. When I played soccer, I wanted to be a goalie since then I wouldn’t have to run. I thought that it was normal to not be able to breathe until my mother spotted some red flags and brought me in to get diagnosed.

Inhalers help with asthma, but if you forget yours at home, you’re screwed. It’s fine if it’s just a little wheezing, but the situation can turn dangerous very quickly. One time I had a sleepover with my friends and had an allergic reaction to their dog. I later learned that I wheezed throughout the entire night. It sounded like I was some broken white noise machine.

Because of this, I like to call myself an “asthma dragon.” I figured that I could either be held back by my condition or I could try to look for a bright side to it. I don’t wheeze, I’m just practicing my potential ability to breathe fire!

Asthma bleeds into my everyday life, too. If I’m late to school and have to walk up the soph lot hill, I will be wheezing throughout the entire first block, regardless of whether or not I brought my inhaler.

Playing volleyball while having asthma was probably the biggest issue I had. I was always the last girl to finish when we ran lines. I had to focus on not blacking out while everyone else laughed and got water. I was angry at myself for not being able to be enough and tried to push myself harder, which ended in the cycle repeating.

This internal fight with myself was going on until about last year. I ranted to a friend about my resentment toward all things asthma when I realized it wasn’t asthma that was holding me back. It was myself. In trying to avoid the sensation, I was destroying my potential.

During the hottest week of the summer, I started to run. It was hard, but it felt good. Running proved to myself that I am more than my stupid lungs- even if it may hurt, I can power through anything.

My asthma is a pain in the butt. It’s embarrassing to use my inhaler in class and hurts when I see people mocking it on T.V. However, it has taught me lessons about myself that I wouldn’t change for the world.