Given the level of gasping and wheezing created by slogging an indoor event, I wondered just what kind of havoc running outside would generate. Unable to put off recognition of the pulmonary problems any longer, I found myself paying attention to commercials for COPD products while waiting for an appointment with Dr. R.
"Even with exercise-induced asthma," he said after listening to the constricted chest, "you shouldn't be taking that long to recover."
"It's gotten so bad that I'm using the inhaler before I even walk on the treadmill," I confessed.
"There's more to this than exercise. I want you to go to Dr. S. and get another pulmonary exam and an allergy test."
"Ok."
"In the meantime, start using this inhaler every morning. It will help reduce some of the inflammation."
"Is it a steroid?" I asked.
"Yes, every inhaler contains some form of steroid."
"Do you think it will make me stronger for the Arnold Pump and Run 5k?"
"Given you're inhaling it, rather than ingesting it, the steroid's affect will be minimal. It won't help your pump and run lifting."
"Well, if I can't breathe," I said, "it doesn't really matter what affect the steroid has on my weight lifting, does it?"
"Yes, very true."
The daily dose of the Asmanex Twisthaler -- who names these things? -- proved nothing short of miraculous: late-night, post-run wheezing, almost a constant companion for the last month, disappeared. In fact, the combination of Asmanex and a puff from the emergency inhaler pre and post clump moved the lungs to a functional level. Being able to run without gasping, I breathed almost normally while completing the Indoor 10k participants' caricatures post basement slogs.
Local speedster, Matt F, carries his extremely large trophy across the 10k finish line. Marc, in a gesture I'm sure Matt appreciated, put him in a different heat than us this year.
Arriving at Dr. S.'s office behind the hospital, I filled out the paperwork and took a seat in the examining room. First up, another breathing test with an encouraging nurse (i.e., "c'mon keep going, keep going! keep going!!!!). After I finished blowing, she and another nurse sketched temporary ink pen grids across both my extended forearms. Each intersection got poked with a miniature needle; thirty different allergens got planted under the skin of each arm. Once the nurses determined which allergen-farm seeds sprouted into red mosquito-like bumps, they administered another twelve slightly more potent doses into each shoulder.
"I thought you were going to do the shoulders first," I said as the nurse injected ragweed. "I took this test as a teenager."
"What did they find out?" She asked.
"It was pretty conclusive; they determined I was a little bit allergic to everything."
With almost one hundred needles ready for the landfill and forearms and shoulders screaming for a thorough scratching, mild-mannered Dr. S. pushed through the door.
"How'd I do on the breathing test?"
"Not so good," Dr. S. replied, looking at the computer-generated results on a monitor. "Your lungs are functioning at 68% of capacity."
"What does that mean?"
"Given your age and physical condition, there's no way they should be functioning that poorly. The good news is that you've got a lot of room for improvement."
"Ah, ok, I like good news."
"The test results show you are allergic to dogs, cats, cows, horses, guinea pigs, trees and weeds," he said. "Do you have any animals?"
"Yeah, we've got two dogs and three cats. We've also got fish, do you test for them?"
"No, we don't test for fish. Allergists like fish for pets," Dr. S. replied with a wry smile. "What about cows or horses?"
"No, I try to avoid cows whenever possible," I said, realizing a cow standing under a tree surrounded by weeds would be the equivalent of my immune system encountering Osama Bin Ladin.
"Ok, that's good to know," Dr. S. said, marking the chart. Used to dealing with clowns like me, the unflappable allergist didn't miss a beat. "Interestingly enough, you're not allergic to rabbits."
"Do I need to get rid of the cats and dogs?" I asked, broaching the million-dollar question.
Yesterday, I brought up the pet-allergy issue with the family or, maybe more accurately, the family shared its ideas on said topic with me. Given my wife and kids possessed some, well, pretty strong opinions about their furry brethren, the conversation with Dr. S. had come to critical crossroads. If he told me the animals needed to find new homes that would force the family into a difficult decision: keeping me or their four-legged friends. I felt relatively confident that if it went to a vote, the result would be a Reagan-esque landslide for the party running Mandy, River, Angel, Cookie and Sunshine. The mr loser ticket might not even garner spousal support.
"No, you can keep them," Dr. S. said. "Numerous studies have shown that even if you remove the animals, their dander remains in your home for five years or more. Statistics also indicate that one in three children attending school has an animal; your kids bring the pet dander home on them."
"So, there's no way to get away from it?"
"No, unless you want to live in a bubble, there isn't. And that's not our goal. What we need to do is build up your natural immunities to the allergens, that's the best way to solve this problem."
"Will it work?"
"It should," he replied. "You're young, you're healthy, you've got a lot of room for improvement. You're a perfect candidate for this treatment. It will take time to build up your immunities, but doing it will really help you breath better."
"If I do that, I ought to be able to run better right?"
"No doubt," he grinned. "You will be much faster."
I signed up for the almost two-year, progressive treatment program and am already getting tricep shots. After all, I've got a date with laps 187-248 on February 5, 2012. If things go as anticipated, breaking forty-five minutes won't even be a challenge.
On second thought, this is still the LOSER Report, right?
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Up next: wardrobe malfunctions
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