Weds 1st November

Weds 1st November

Woke up at 3am, completely unable to breath! I could breath ‘in’ in a fashion, but my chest was so tight, it was like trying to breathe out, through a chewed up straw.. Not too bad, the first few times that you do it, but starts to get a bit claustrophobic, after around 3 breathes or so..

I tried to quell the panic, and sit myself upright. This helped in terms of positioning, but the extra effort and increased oxygen requirements in doing so, made me gasp even more - I reached for the ventolin inhaler, but couldn’t breath out enough, for the ‘in’ breath, to have much effect..

I started to realise how frightened ds1 must feel, when he has a bad attack…

I sat it out, but after 20 mins, it was apparent that I was too short of breath for the powder in the inhaler to actually reach my lungs - I could feel all the muscles working in my throat , chest and ribs, trying to get adequate oxygen..

I flayed my hand on dh desperately - he grunted - I whacked him again - hard - he ‘semi’ woke up..

“Ian……….can’t………….breeeeath“……….. I gasped..

He went “hunggggh??” peered at me, quickly got a grip on what was happening, and ran to the car, clad only in boxer shorts..

In the back of his car, was a nebulizer set, complete with O2 mask, and ventolin, for his patients. He descended on me, strapped me up, and plugged me in. It sounded rather like being on a rather noisy aircraft, and dh regarded me gravely. Some of the nebuliser got down there, and I soon started to settle - the relief.- Was fantastic - I will never ever take breathing for granted again!

We discussed going to hospital, but although I was still ‘wheezy’ I could breathe, and we had the nebulizer, so decided to see how things went, and agreed I would see my own GP later this morning, for possible steroids and anti-biotics…

8 am. Still wheezy, but not struggling for breath- took ds1 to school, but made the unprecendented step of just hurling him out of the car at the school gates, to make his own way in, (rather like a ram-raider, but in reverse!) instead of walking him into the playground, and making ‘small talk’ - he was cool about it!! And was quite pleased!

Dropped ds2 off at pre-school..

Came home - made an appointment with a GP for that morning..

Receptionist was very sweet - she had to ask me if it was urgent..

“yes….it……is…..” I wheezed!

“Fine!! that’s fine!! Come in at 11.30!”

I had to organize for someone to pick up ds2 from pre-school, and drove to the Dr’s.

The surgery was upstairs - I felt very elderly, as I wheezed, and paused for breath on the way up.. By the time I saw the GP - I couldn’t string a sentence together - she frowned unnervingly, wielded her stethescope, did a peak flow, and announced my lung function was very poor….

She put me on oral steroids, and oral antibiotics, and told me to continue with the nebulisers. The basic message was that I could be relied upon to be sent home safely, cos Dh is a GP, I am a nurse, so if things got any worse, I could be relied upon to go straight to A&E - I was pleased at that!

Got prescription - took steroids (6 of ‘em!) and went home to sleep..

Picked up children from school/friends etc… made tea - usual stuff..

But that evening, I just couldn’t settle - chest was feeling somewhat better, but I had a sense of urgency - Dh came home from work, and I talked his ears off - I was clinging to the study -room wall, like a fly caught in fly paper, wielding a loaded paintbrush - but I couldn’t stop - from the safety of the ladder, I also phoned my friend - when her ears started to bleed, some 30 minutes later - she asked me cautiously, if I was OK.. “Of course!!” I boomed “ Never felt better!”

Which I hadn‘t! - I could breathe - I had a new house to decorate - I felt on top of the world, and somewhat euphoric - The world was mine - and I wanted everyone to know about it..

The only fly in the ointment, was the fridge - its truculent, sullen failure to recognise it was indeed actually cold, really upset me, and as the evening went on, every time I passed it, to wash out paint-brushes etc, I gave it a series of harder and harder swift kicks. It really upset me - it made me feel very uneasy - why wasn’t it ‘happy?’ what was I doing so wrong? Did it not like me

It felt like it was trying to bring me down, in a BIG way - there was I, on top of the world, getting on with things, and able to breathe - yet every time I passed it, I felt an enormous surge of anxiety and ill ease - it wasn’t ‘right’ and I didn’t want to ‘catch its‘ discontentment and unhappiness, or have to deal with it, so I kicked it harder and harder…
.
At 1am, Dh wearily approached me, and asked if I was indeed to be glued to the wall forever, and next time they gave me steroids, could they please give me a mood stabiliser too!

I managed to unglue myself, and take myself to bed, where I lay alongside dh, who was gently snoring -
In contrast, my mind whirled, soared, and climbed new heights, as yet unobtained, like a free bird, I made plans, strategies, I was going to extend into the garage, and my masters dissertation could prove the basis for changing the whole direction of health psychology research

- I felt invincible, and omni-potent - I had never ever felt so good, powerful, and yet benevolent!
I got up once or twice to stare at the walls and think - even the walls seemed to encourage my thoughts and plans and it felt important to face them..

But - I was troubled by the fridge, and its intransigence - what did it mean - ‘too warm’ - my fecking mushrooms were frozen solid! It clearly wasn’t too warm - everything else was going swimmingly - yet the fridge was out of step somehow…

When I had been finishing painting Ds1’s bedroom that afternoon, before it got dark, I saw the next-door neighbours in the garden - the children were playing outside - the mother came out and called them in - I felt quite uneasy, like she had seen me, and called her children in as a result.

It also worried me, that the fridge belonged to the old neighbours, who were popular in the neighbourhood, yet on our arrival, it was making some sort of protest, or stand, against our move in - and the neighbours also didn’t seem that keen too - not if they were calling in their children - maybe they didn’t ‘approve’ of us..


I knew it was a slightly different ‘neighbourhood’ - more middle-class - than we had ever been in before - yet without some of the self-containment, that some such neighbourhoods engender… and I brooded, that they might not think us ‘suitable’


Went to bed, to brood…….