(Arterial Line)

Thanks everyone for your support and especially to Kerri and Dr Wensel for staying in close contact during my 98th hospitalization. Thanks also to ALL the wonderful nurses who took care of me..You guys are awesome! Most of all, thank you to my dear Douglas who goes through hell every time I get sick. I’m so sorry I put him through this. Yes, living with a brittle asthmatic is definitely not for wimps.

Im starting to sound like a broken record with these hospital reports, but no kidding, this flare-up was no picnic. It ranks up there as one of the worse on record for me. On a scale of 1-10, probably an 8 or 9. I was pretty sick there for a while and was starting to have doubts as to whether I was actually going to pull through it. But it seems I have more lives than all my kitty cats put together and will apparently live to do this all over again sometime the future ( I just hope it’s not the near future).
Not sure what the trigger was this time, but I’m guessing that the cold I had from the previous hospitalization never quite went away. ( walking in the rain last week probably didn’t help either)

The primary problem this time, and what usually happens when I get really sick like this, is something called CO2 retention. The act (or work) of breathing becomes so hard, that the level of CO2 in my blood climbs really high ( what they call respiratory failure). I was in failure for 4 days with PCO2s ranging from 38 to 70 (when breathing at a rate of 50, that’s not good) My lungs get so tight, that I can’t move any air…I don’t even wheeze! When you listen to my lungs ,you can’t hear any air moving.

Because of all the problems I experienced with lack of sedation while I was on the ventilator the last time, I chose not to be intubated this time ( probably a mistake,because it would have immediately lowered my Co2). Instead , we relied mostly on cont alb nebs, bipap, and steroids to reduce my CO2 indirectly. Thanks to a call put out to Dr Wenzel ( who btw, was in London England at the time), a huge increase in my steroids was ordered along with a few other strategies she recommended, seemed to set the stage for my eventual improvement. Finally on the 3rd day with the increased steroids on board, my lungs started opening up , my work of breathing decreased, and my CO2 started to fall. By day #4 my PCO2 was back to normal and I was starting to wheeze again ( a good thing) . Ironically, while all this was all going on, I found out that there was actually a world-wide shortage of propofol. So even if I chose to be intubated, they would have probably used an alternative sedative agent. Weird huh

On day # 5 I was stable enough to be transferred out of the ICU to the step down unit where I continued to improve. On day #7 I was bugging them to let me go home. On day #8 I was paroled.

This time around I thought Id do something different and post some of the good pictures instead of the bad ones. Of course, I still have to include my battle scars pics. I must have been stabbed 50 times just to gain access to 2 functional IVs and one arterial line. My arms look like black,blue and green swiss cheese and are really really sore.

Today, Im breathing a little better, though my lungs sound like a washing machine during the wash cycle. Course and wet sounding wheezes that you can hear from across the street. Again, this is a good thing and means that my lungs are opening up. The danger is not quite over, as there is a possibility that I could rebound during the next few days, but I think for the most part, I’m over the proverbial hump. In any event, I can already tell that recovering from this exacerbation is going to be slow and difficult process.

This may not come as a big shock to everyone, but these recent flares have taken such a toll on my body, that a Boston victory seems unlikely. There’s just not enough time to regain the training Ive lost. Having said that, I’m not going to let asthma stop me from doing what I love. Boston may, or may not happen. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Just one final thought…..Though I may look happy in the pictures above, it was all for the camera. I’m a ham, no doubt, but I’m also human. These recent exacerbations( 3 hospitalizations in 3 months) have left me incredibly frustrated and down on myself. Steroid induced or not, right now I’m in a pretty deep depression that I’m not sure how long will take to climb out of. I’m not really sure that I even wanna continue blogging about my disease. I hate to be selfish, but lately, just the word “asthma” or the thoughts it provokes, make me wanna run and hide. If I seem slow to respond or update, please bare with me. Thank you everyone for being such good friends. We have built a huge community around our disease and are getting the word out. You should all be very proud.

Postscript 2-7-2010; I had no idea I would strike such a chord with my friends over my comment about not wanting to blog about my asthma anymore.
Don’t worry, I will definitely continue to blog and post on asthma support sites. Maybe not as often , and maybe not focusing as much on my own asthma, but I will definitely keep everyone up to date on what’s happening in my crazy world. I’m just really burnt out right now and I need to focus my attention on things other than my own breathing. Ive been blogging about my asthma and my declining health for 5 continuous years now. I don’t want to be one of those people who chronicles their own death(as noble as that may be). I need to start paying more homage to my idol, the King of the ballad , Mr Manilow. (I haven’t even seen his new show at the Paris Vegas yet.)
So NO worries…. I’m not going away, my life is way too fascinating to keep all to myself

Ever since I got out of the hospital for this last flare-up, Ive been noticing that when I take deep breaths in, I can hear (and feel) a slight inspiratory wheeze or airy sound coming from somewhere in my throat. More bothersome than the sound, I can actually feel some resistance as well. It feels like I’m breathing through a narrowed tube.

At first I thought that because I was weaning off the pred too fast, that my airways were rebelling by tightening up, but this sensation feels different than regular bronchospasm. Although very mild, it feels more like a permanent constricture in, or around the area of my vocal cords.

Well , after a week of trying to rule out possible causes, it finally dawned on me….. I probably have some kind of Tracheal Stenosis” or a vocal cord injury, related to my last intubation. I spoke with Dr W and she totally agreed with my assessment. An ENT doctor will have to look down my throat with a scope to confirm whether this is actually the problem, but I’m pretty confident it is. My only question is, is it my vocal cords that are jacked up, or is there some narrowing of the upper airway itself, and more important, can it be fixed?

From what little I know about this subject from working as an RT, Tracheal Stenosis is basically a narrowing of the trachea , either above or below the glottis, and is usually due to trauma caused when an Endotracheal tube is inserted in your windpipe ( Intubation).Although modern ET tubes are designed to be gentle on the airways, the physical presence of the breathing tube in your airway, can still cause damage and scarring to the surrounding tissue. The result, is swelling and/or thickening of that portion of the airway. The amount of time that the ET tube is in your airway is an important factor, as you’re more likely to develop a stenosis if you were intubated for a long period. But, that’s not always the case, especially when you’ve been intubated as many times as I have.

Up till now, this has been little more than an annoyance ,which only bothers me when I try to take a deep breath in. I am a little concerned however, that this could turn into a very serious problem the next time I have a major flare, so I just as soon get it checked and corrected as soon as possible.

Whatever IT is, I must still have it, because today I walked 10 miles. And I couldn’t be happier about IT!

Now, I’m not going to say it was easy, cuz it wasn’t. In fact, it was one of the most difficult training walks Ive done in a long time. My lungs got tight right off that bat, and by the time I got to the 6 mile mark, I was hitting on my inhaler every 5 to 10 minutes (12 puffs in all). Did I mention that a bunch of thunderstorms erupted and it poured down freezing rain almost the entire 2 hours and 43 minutes that it took me to finish the walk? ( shame on you weather man) Yup, I was soaked to the bone and wheezing like a punctured set of bagpipes, but I pushed on, and man… did I feel alive!

Note to myself: I will definitely need to take a couple neb treatments during Boston and also during my longer training walks, because the inhalers just don’t cut it when I’m over exerting myself.

Battle scars: 4 failed arterial line attempts and 12 failed IV attempts. I have no veins left and my radial arteries are so scarred up from previous insertions, that it’s virtually impossible to get access unless they put a central line in. Very frustrating for the doctors and very painful for me.

I’d been having vague flu like symptoms, such as stomach bloating and chills for about a week before my lungs started to act up. Less than 3 weeks earlier I had received the H1H1 vaccine as well as the regular annual flu shot, so the last thing on my mind is that I might actually be coming down with the flu.

By New Years Eve afternoon my peak flows started to trend downward, and by that evening they had dropped from 340 to 200. My sats fell from 97 to 89%. I was requiring neb treatments almost every hour and had considered going to the ER right then and there, but had decided against it because of it being New Years eve and all. I figured the hospitals would be jammed with New Years revelers , so I decided I would just try to tough it out till morning and then re-assess. Maybe by then I would feel better. After a horribly breathless and sleepless night spent next to the nebulizer machine, I figured I had had enough, bit the bullet and went to the ER.

As is usual for me, rather than being carted in or delivered by ambulance, I strolled into ER on foot. I told the triage Nurse what the problem was. She took down my name and asked if I was in serious distress at the moment ( since I never really look sick) , I said I was OK at the moment . She had me take a seat in the waiting room ( which by the way, was pretty much emptied at 11am). 5 minutes had past, then 10 minutes, and 30 , and still they had not called me in. By now it had been almost an hour since I had a breathing treatment and I was really starting to close up. I hate making a scene , but I thought I was going to pass out, so I stood up and walked back over the triage window. The Nurse took one look at me and said ” OH MY GOD .. You haven’t been seen yet??? I said no, and I think I’m going to pass out. Within 30 seconds I was on a gurney on my way to the resuscitation room . I didn’t actually pass out, but I sure prompted a lot of people into action. Before I knew it, I was on a continuous albuterol neb with people whirling around me trying to get IVs in. They asked the usual questions.. Have you ever been intubated? Before I could answer, one of the ER doctors recognized me and said “He’s a bad one….he’s been intubated a dozen times”
Within a record 30 minutes, the ICU team had completed their evaluation and I was on my way to the unit.

In the ICU they put me on the usual Bipap setting of 12/5 with 15mg/hr of Albuterol piped in. Because of my flu symptoms, they swabbed my nose with the rapid flu test, put me on droplet precautions and placed me in isolation, which means anyone coming in contact with me had to wear a mask and eye shields. Im sure the staff weren’t too please about that ( I know from personal experience what a pain it can be to work with a patient who is in isolation, especially a ventilator patient.)

For the first few hours, the bipap seemed like it was helping, my Sats had increased to 98% with an FIO2 of just 40%. Although I was saturating well, I was starting to feel that all familiar ache that I feel when my CO2 starts to climb. After several unsuccessful attempts at placing an Arterial-line ( which hurt like hell), they finally gave up and resorted to doing individual ABG draws.

(My Hannibal Lecter look before Intubation)

I had now been on bipap for about 4 hours and my PCo2 was starting to climb. The first PCO2 came back at 43, but I was on bipap and my resp rate was in 50s ( this is not a good sign). An hour later my PCO2 was 60. A half hour after that, it was 66 and my Ph 7.29 . It was time for the intubation talk. Rather than himming and hawing about how long to wait, this time I told them straight up, just intubate when you think Ive had enough. They agreed, and 30 minutes later it was lights out for me. 14 hours later I woke up with a tube down my windpipe.

Here’s a clip my camera-happy partner took. They were in the process of weaning me off the ventilator and just about to take the ET tube out.

About 1 hour after that video was taken, I was extubated and talking up a storm …or should I say cuzzing up a storm. Why was I not kept down longer? Why didn’t they use propofol to sedate me. Why were the RTs being so rude to me this time?

The anesthesiologist had promised me that they were going to use propofol and keep me asleep for at least 48 hours, but it turns out that I had the same weird reaction to propofol as I did during the previous intubation. Something called “infusion syndrome“,so they had to stop giving it to me. They thought it was strange, because propofol infusion syndrome usually occurs in people who are sedated for several days.
For that reason they had to use Versed and Fentanyl instead of propofol to keep me sedated, making it much harder to keep me asleep. At one point I actually remember walking up “paralyzed” and unable to move or communicate. Apparently they had not sedated me enough and I woke up before the paralytic agent (a drug they use when they insert the tube) wore off. Talk about a horrible experience. Nothing like being a zombie. In total, I was on the ventilator for less than 2 days.

After being extubated the RT gave me the choice of using the continuous neb or the bipap…. of course I chose the neb. I did Ok for about an hour , but then once again ,my PCO2 started to climb. Not happy with my recent ABGs, the RT comes into the room accusing me of causing this spike in my CO2, because of not following her instructions of using the bipap. WHAT THE F!
Since when is the patient suppose to decide what type of therapy he gets? Even an RT/ patient deserves someone else to call the shots when he’s sick. I didn’t like her attitude and I told her. The next thing I know, she sends in her supervisor who starts patronizing me. He says to me…” your Ph is 7.30 and your CO2 is climbing again. If you want , I can help you correct it. If you’re not willing to help,then there’s nothing I can do for you. WHAT THE F AGAIN? What’s with the all the attitude. Eveyone was nice to me before I got exubated. What did I do?

I was so pissed off I wanted to scream, but I figured that they would treat me better if I did what they wanted. So I just sucked it up and did what they asked. The male RT set me up on what they call “non-Invasive” ventilation. It’s basically where they hook you up to a ventilator with a mask instead of an endotracheal tube. Its just a fancy way to give Bipap. He also encouraged me to play with the ventilator settings , so that I could adjust it the way I wanted. ( Remember, I’m an RT. I know how to operate ventilators). At this point I couldn’t figure out if he was making fun of me, or if he appreciated the fact that I was trying to play ball with him and cooperate. In any case, his act of showing a little kindness paid off, and within a short time my ABGs were stabilized and everyone was happy, including myself.

12 hours later I was strong enough to breath on my own and they were able to discontinue the breathing machine entirely. So, what was up with all the attitude they were directing my way? ( more about that later)

I have now been in the hospital for 3 days, been on and off the ventilator, and was starting to breath a little better. The Rapid flu antigen test came back negative, but because the test is only 50% accurate, they decided to do the more sensitive test for swine flu. That test takes 6 days and had to be send the to state for processing. What this basically meant, is that even if the test was negative, I would be spending the rest of my hospital stay in isolation. I really didn’t mind because it assured me a private room my entire hospital stay.

On Day 4 I was deemed stable enough to be transferred to the step down unit, where I stayed until my discharge 3 days later. While there , I was placed back on a continuous albuterol neb, but this time the dose was decreased to 5 mg per hour.I did fine on that , but began coughing much more than I usually do. My biggest complaint was the congested nose and the unrelenting chills from whatever virus I had. Eventually , my chest became congested as well. I was able to cough up some gunk , which they analyzed in the lab. Seems on top of this virus from hell, I also had a bacterial infection brewing and now had bronchitis. The next morning they started me on Doxycycline and decided to keep me in the hospital an extra day. On Friday I still felt like crap, but was home sick and convinced them that I felt well enough to go home.

So, what was all this rudeness and attitude I was detecting from some of the RTs and some of the doctors? Well , it turns out that some of the ICU doctors were concerned about my tolerance for opiates. The fact that I was requesting Fentanyl and Dilaudid to ease my breathlessness was apparently a red-flag to them. Despite the fact that my personal pulmonlogist’s condone the use of opiates to treat severe breathlessness, it’s still not a widely accepted practice in the ICU. For many critical care doctors and respiratory therapists, if you’re taking opiates, you either have an addiction to them, or you have psychosomatic illness. In either case, you are definitely treated differently. You’re basically treated like a psych patient instead of a medical patient. In my case , neither of their assumptions were true. The fact is, I only take opiates ( or request them) when the work of breathing becomes overwhelming to me. The breathlessness that I experience is caused by my narrowing airways during an attack. It’s this breathlessness that causes my anxiety, not the other other way around. And that’s the part that people have a hard time accepting.

I am not an anxious person, unless I’m suffocating to death. I can see now though, that my requests for painkillers to make my breathing easier, would probably account for why some of the doctors were acting weird around me. On more than one occasion, I has some of the doctors trying to convince me that I should try some long acting anti depressants and/or anti -anxiety meds, instead of opiates to manage my dyspnea. They also gave me a list of referral to various specialists who supposedly deal with dyspnea management ( all of whom, Id seen in the past without success). I reminded her, that I was taking opiates on the recommendation of one of UCSFs own highly acclaimed palliative care doctors.
In the end, I basically told her that we had been down this road many times before, and I that I refuse to discuss the matter any further. It’s my life, and if I choose to take opiates during bouts of severe breathlessness, that’s my choice, and it should in no way, change how I am treated during an active severe asthma exacerbation. Case closed!

Dont get me wrong, I’m grateful, and for the most part , satisfied with the medical care I received during this hospital stay. There were a lot of good things that happened as well. For example, for the first time ever, the doctors actually granted my request to not exceed 60 mg per day of Solumedrol or prednisone, which really helped. I’m am however, not too happy with the way I was spoken to by some of the other staff, especially the RTs . There seems to be this weird vibe I get from other Respiratory Therapists when they find out that I’m a Therapist myself. Either they like me right off the bat or they are intimidated by me… I’m not sure what’s up with that. I was also made to feel by some of the physicians, that I somehow brought this exacerbation on myself by over -reacting to my own dyspnea. That simply wasn’t the case. I’m pretty sure it was the flu that triggered this event, not anxiety. Besides, I think it would be pretty hard to go into full blown clinical respiratory failure, just from anxiety alone.

Bottom line…Much like credit report, incorrect statements or diagnosis that end up in your chart , can have a negative effect on the type of medical care you receive for years to come. I think this is especially true when it comes to medically complex patients (such as severe asthmatics.) A lot of this misinformation could be avoided if physicians were allowed to follow their patients in the hospital. Of course, that’s not going to happen. Evidence based medicine is here to stay.

On asthma severity scale of 1-10, this probably only ranks a 6 or 7, though having the flu at the same made it feel like a 10. Number 97 is behind me now, but I still have a long recovery ahead. It will take me weeks to regain the strength I lost in just one week of illness. As Ive said before, the aftermath of a severe asthma exacerbation is often more difficult to deal with than the actual attack itself.
It often takes several days after the hospitalization before you start feeling the trauma of what your body has been through. Being jabbed dozens of time with needles and catheters. Lack of sleep, sensory overload, having a hose shoved down your windpipe, being place on artificial life support. And then of course , there’s all those potent drugs. All these catch up with you. Yes, the recovery is often the worse than the treatment.

If there are any bright spots to this other wise crappy week, it would be the wonderful Nurses I encountered in both the ICU and Step down units who have taken care of me many times. They are angels.

And finally, a special thank you and hug for Kerri and Dr Wenzel who took the time to check up on me everyday while I was in the hospital via telephone. Dr Wenzel recommended that they do a PFT on me for discharging me,..and they actually did it! Now, that’s what I call clout!

PS…In all fairness, the RTs in question were new to me . I had never worked with them before. Maybe they weren’t aware of my little quirks, but it still doesn’t give them the right to treat me like a 2 year old. As far as some of the physicians concerns, I suppose they were justified, I just wish they would talk to me before rushing to conclusions.

Ever notice the time stamp on many of my blog entries? I usually compose and publish them in the early morning hours…sometimes way before dawn. You know why? Because I’m usually awake at 3 or 4 in the morning. And why am I up that early? Because Ive usually had a bad night of breathing and have to get out of bed just so I can breath.

I lead a double life. A mild to moderate asthmatic by day and a severe one by night . Starting around 6pm everyday, almost like clockwork, it’s as if someone came along and turned my bad breathing switch to the “on” position. Out of the blue, my peak flows will drop by as much as 1/3 , and as the evening progresses, so will my breathing discomfort. By the time 9 pm rolls around, I’m usually so uncomfortable, that I’ll have to down a little Ativan just to take the edge off. The drug doesn’t do anything for your breathing per se, it works by mellowing you out to the point where you basically don’t give a s**t that you’re short of breath. If the ativan doesn’t cut it , sometimes I’ll call on the big boys for help….the opiates. I hate taking narcotics for my breathing, because while they sometimes help, they also have a lot of side effects and can be very addictive.

I don’t wanna wave any red flags or sound overly dramatic, but there are times, especially during the evening hours, that my breathing gets so uncomfortable, I just want it all to end. I try to remain as calm as possible and do all the things that you’re supposed to do when your dyspnea gets outta control, but most of these stress relieving techniques, rarely work for me when my lungs get extra tight. Instead, I’ll usually go outside and sit on the front porch where there’s sometimes a breeze, and just tough it out the best I can. It’s during times like this , when all I can think of….. is not wanting to suffer with this disease anymore. It changes my personality and puts me in foul angry mood.

So why the huge daytime- to- nighttime swings? At first I thought it might have something to do with the time of day that I take my asthma meds. But thats unlikely, because I divide all of my meds into equal doses throughout the day to ensure more uniform coverage. My doctors thought that maybe I was having some sort of obstructive sleep apnea thing , but my sleep studies all came back totally negative. Then there’s the exercise issue, could too much exercise during the day make me feel like crap at night? Possibly, but again, the findings aren’t consistent. On the weekends when I generally don’t exercise, I still have the same nighttime breathing problems that I do on the days where I do exercise…sometimes even worse.

A lot of people will read this and assume that my asthma is simply not well controlled , and will recommend that I increase my bronchodilator use and/or steroid intake. The problem is, I’m already on maximal dosages of everything! , except for steroids in pill form, which for me, is not an option. My primary care doc recently recommended that I start taking a mild opiate, like vicodin, just before bedtime to see if that would quell my dyspnea enough to catch some sleep. Unfortunately, vicodin wires me.

Whether it’s full on bronchospasm or just air-trapping that brings on this distress, these bouts happen with such regularity now, that I don’t look forward to nice relaxing evenings anymore. In fact, I dread them. And except for an occasional night time stroll to take my mind off it, you’ll never see me out in public after dark.

I found this interesting article in the Chest Journal about this very same phenomena, titled “The Diurnal Rhythm of Asthma“.

OK, We can’t always have cheerful posts. I try my best to poke fun and put a positive spin on all things asthma, but lets face it, this disease sucks and can really dampen your spirits. Next week I have an appt with the Palliative care dept at UCSF, to see if they have any NEW advice to offer me, in dealing with my chronic dyspnea.

In the interest of being a responsible blogger, I must point out, that the use of opiates to treat dyspnea is usually reserved for people with terminal or end stage disease. It’s primary use is to end suffering.  Many pulmonologists would strongly discourage their asthmatic patients from taking such drugs, as they can also dangerously slow your breathing.

Had a great time and a stronger than expected finish at yesterday race. My final race results aren’t in yet due to a technical glitch, but I think I finished in about 3:07 , which is much faster than I anticipated and probably why I’m having problems today.

I felt fine immediately after the race, but as I was driving home, I could feel myself getting increasingly tighter and short of breath. By the time I made it home 2 hours later, my peak flows had fallen from 350 to 190 and I was tight as a drum.
I ended up staying awake all last night taking nebs treatments every hour with only minimal relief. Earlier this morning I bumped up my pred to 60mg, but they haven’t kicked in yet, or I’m not reacting to them

My doctor wants me to go to the hospital, but I’m really not in the mood to be tortured right now. I’m sore enough as it is..I can barely walk. I did however, promise her that I’d go in if things didn’t turn around by later today.

Bottom line, I might have exacerbated myself by over-doing it at yesterdays race. I shouldn’t have tried to racewalk the entire 13 mile distance , but I was feeling pretty good at the time and just couldn’t resist. It could have been that I had an exacerbation brewing and didn’t know it ( happens all the time to me). Exerting myself hard for 3 hours my have pushed me over the edge..Who know really knows what the trigger was.

I’ll have a proper race report up in a few days ( if I’m not in the hospital). Hope everyone else did well at their respective races!

PS…Check this out…what an amazing runner!

California’s fastest half-marathon lived up to its billing Sunday as American Meb Keflezighi set a new U.S. 20k record and bettered his personal best by 25 seconds winning the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon in a time of 1:01:00. Keflezighi’s 20k split of 57:52 broke Ryan Hall’s standing 20K record of 57:54 set in 2006.

I was going to blog about a nicer topic this evening, but my breathing kinda put a damper on that. Ive been flaring mildly on and off all week, but on Monday afternoon, my peak flows took a nose dive. In a matter of minutes my chest got really tight and my peak flows dropped from 350 to 190. A possible suspect for the flare -up could be allergies ,as my eyes having been bothering me too. The fact that I’m so tight and not wheezing, has me a little concerned.

It’s now 4 am Tuesday morning and I just emailed my doctors to tell them whats going on. Ive been awake all night trying to fight off this attack,but I’m starting to get a little pooped out. Ive been taking neb treatments every 30 minutes with only minimal relief and a few minutes ago I bolused myself with 60mg of pred. As crazy as it sounds, the only reason I haven’t gone to the ER yet, is because based on the way I’m feeling right now, they would for sure intubate me…yeah it’s that bad. I just can’t deal with the whole hospital thing again so soon. The thought of being jabbed and tortured with a million needles is a strong deterrent.

Its really difficult for me to update my blog to let people know how I’m doing when I’m sick or in the ER, but I always try to get word out ( my family reads my blog too). Hopefully this flare -up is more bark than bite, and I’ll shake it off by tomorrow. If not, number 95 might come sooner than expected. If I do end up in the slammer (it will say so on the sidebar), you can use this link to reach me.

OK.. I’m too short of breath to write anymore tonight. Everyone have a great week!

I had been feeling really crumby most of that weekend prior. My dyspnea was increasing and my peak flows were gradually trending downward. By Sunday evening it was pretty evident that this flare-up was getting worse , not better. I bolused myself with 60mg prednisone and decided I would try to tough it out another 24 hours in order to give the steroids a chance to kick in.

On Monday morning I woke up lethargic and more breathless than the night before. My peak flows were now below 200 (my red-zone) and the neb treatments weren’t helping anymore. By early that afternoon I was starting to get really uncomfortable and fidgety ( this is usually a sure sign that my CO2 is rising), so I decided to call it day and headed to the hospital. At 2 pm my partner dropped me off in front of UCSF Emergency room . The next time I saw him, was 24 hours later after waking up on a ventilator.

We’ll start the gore fest with a little footage I took with my phone while I was in the ER. My Hannibal Lecter look (as Dave McGovern, my racewalking coach, so kindly puts it). It’s actually called Bipap, which is basically a machine that pushes air into your lungs and then holds that pressure in your airways through out the breathing cycle. The Bipap wasn’t cutting it though, and 8 hours later I ended up on a Ventilator.

Rewind to Monday afternoon: I high tail it to the UCSF Emergency (my home away from home) where they proceed to give me the usual continuous Albuterol nebs at 20 mg/hr along with Bipap set at 10/5. While there I received additional IV steroids, Mag Sulfate and a host of other asthma remedies. The first ABG results came back marginal , with subsequent gases getting gradually worse .My oxygen saturation was OK , but my CO2 was starting to climb. After a 6 hour stint in the ER, I was assessed by the ICU medical team and immediately transferred to the new 13th floor medical ICU , where they continued me on the Bipap, this time adding Heliox. They attempted multiple times to insert an arterial line in my wrists , but were unsuccessful. For the time being they would monitor my respiratory status using other means.

Over the next few hours, I was asked repeatedly by the doctors, if I thought I was tiring out ( something they always ask ), and each time I would respond to the negative, telling them, that at least for the time being, I felt like I was holding my own and did not want to be intubated. 6 hours later, despite being on continuous albuterol and bipap support, I was starting to poop out and finally caved in to their request. I was intubated at 2:30 am Tuesday morning.

The next thing I remember ( which turned out to be 14 hours later), was waking up with a tube shoved down my throat, gasping for air!
I have never experienced that degree of suffocation in my life. I was attached to the ventilator,yet..I couldn’t breath. Ive been intubated and ventilated many many times for severe asthma, but usually they keep me asleep for a couple days until the attack subsides. This was the first time Ive actually woken up on the ventilator during the peak of an attack. For the first time in a long time, I thought I was actually going to die. I remember hearing them saying ” you need to relax” ..and I can remember thinking..” you guys are going to kill me” … ” I can’t breath” . I thought something was wrong with the ventilator, but it turns out that it was my lungs that were all messed up.

My response to treatment, thus far, seemed to be making for a lot of the doctors nervous. There was pandemonium in the room. Doctors rushing in and out. Nurses trying frantically to calm me down so that I wouldn’t self extubate. They finally gave a me a pen and paper on a clipboard to communicate with. I kept writing..” I can’t breath” . On more than one occasion, the feeling of suffocation got so bad ,that I had to disconnect myself from the ventilator just to get a breath of fresh air. Of course, all the alarms went off and RT got really upset with me.

The secretions in my lungs weren’t making things any better. All the junk that had accumulated in my chest was making it even more difficult to breath. You could hear me gurgling every time I took a breath. Being an RT, I knew how to self suction. You should have seen the look on their faces when I started to suction myself.! I(and they) were suctioning gobs and gobs of the grossest phlegm you can imagine. Dark reddish brown color with the consistency of jello instant pudding. Anyway, this nightmare of falling asleep and then waking up in a sitting position to find myself drowning in secretions, seemed to go on forever. Every time I got to the brink of wanting to rip the tube out of my throat, they would sedate me with Verced , and the cycle would start all over again. I would be out for an hour, and then I would wake up suffocating again. It was like the worse nightmare you could imagine. It was like hurdling down a long dark tunnel, and then suddenly, I would burst into conscientiousness ,waking up with a huge GASP. I was so miserable, I just wanted to die.

While all this was going on, I also experienced an episode of temporary blindness. Every time I would open my eyes, all I could see was a bright blinding light. I could make out silhouettes , but I couldn’t see people faces. It was really weird. They got worried about this new development and immediately called in an eye doctor to check me out. He couldn’t find anything obvious on his exam. He said it might have had something to do with pressure on the optic nerve , but it went away.

So why on earth was I not sedated and kept asleep to begin with? Well, it turns out that I may have had a rare , but potentially serious reaction to the drug that they normally use to keep intubated patients asleep. The drug is called Propofol and it’s probably the #1 mostly used anesthetic in the world. It’s a wonderful drug, because you can basically turn on or off someone conscienceness like you’re turning on a light switch. It works super fast. It’s routinely used to keep intubated patients asleep, so that they don’t fight the ventilator like I was. When you want them to wake up, you simply stop the infusion. You wake up instantly. Works great when you want to wean someone off a ventilator. Though Ive been on this drug many times over the years, for some reason, my body wasn’t liking it this time and I began developing a lactic acidosis ( where your blood gets really acidic due to muscle breakdown.) My CKs and lactate levels were also getting really high. After ruling everything else out ( including too much albuterol , which can cause a similar problem), they concluded that it must had been the Propofol and immediately stopped the infusion. As an alternative ,they had to use a drug called Verced to sedate me. A nice drug for relaxing you , but not really designed to keep someone under for long periods.

Here are a few pics my partner took of me gorked out on the vent. There’s a good shot of the ventilator settings for you RTs out there. ( One of my ex co-worker/ RT friends, saw the pics on Facebook and noticed that the vent was in the weaning mode)

Finally after 2 days of pure hell, the decision was made that it was probably better to take me off the ventilator and let me breath on my own, rather than risk me blowing out a lung because of all the fighting I was doing on the ventilator. ( As an RT, I’m just guessing that’s what they were thinking..I don’t know for sure).

Day 4, I’m now off the ventilator breathing pretty well and my blood gases have returned to normal. As the day progresses I start to get this strong urge to use the bathroom. I already had a catheter in me to handle number 1, but now, I had to go number two! After not going for 4 days I guess it was no big surprise that I would eventually have to go, but I wasn’t prepared for for what was about to happen.
Unfortunately, UCSFs new 13th floor ICU doesn’t have toilets in the patient rooms, so for the first time in more than 20 years I had to use a bedpan! But, if that wasn’t bad enough, I had the worse case of diarrhea and cramps you can imagine. I don’t think it bothered the Nurses, but it sure bothered me. I was hating life! For the next 2 1/2 days, my lower gut was in knots and the nausea and cramps that followed were unrelenting. They eventually set me up with a bedside commode ( basically a toilet on wheels), but with all the wires and tubes that were attached to my body, it took at 2 nurses and a physical therapist to get me from the bed to the commode. And guess what? Someone has to empty the commode. How embarrassing. On that first day , I went 5 times, on the 2nd day , 4 times ! ( You have to remember, I hadn’t eaten anything in the previous 5 days, so where this was all coming from I don’t know). Apparently , on top of all the other drug reactions, I was now having a reaction to all the antibiotics and all the other drugs they were pumping into me. To be on the safe side, they decided to put me in isolation for C-diff precautions.

By Friday afternoon the stomach cramps were diminishing in intensity and my breathing was much better, so they transferred me out of the unit to a private room ( thanks to my isolation order) in the step-down unit ….with a private toilet…YEAHH . My C-Diff test eventually came back negative.

Things were looking up. The only problem I had to address before going home , were my swollen ankles and my oxygenation level. Because I had no IV access in my arms, earlier in my stay they had to place multiple IVs in my feet. Normally this wouldn’t have been a big deal, (Ive had IVs in my feet before) , but this time because of all the fluids I received, somehow the vein in my foot must have blown , so some of the fluids that were supposed to go in my veins actually ended up in the tissue surrounding my right ankle. As a result , this caused my foot to arch downward ( what they call foot drop).
When I was finally strong enough to get out of bed, just standing up was painful because it forced my feet to flex back to the normal position. For the next 2 days, I did multiple short walks , and when I was in bed, I propped my feet up with pillows and iced my ankles which really helped a lot.

The very last challenge I had to meet before being discharged home, was being able to walk without desaturating. On my first attempt at walking down the hallway, my sat went from 95 to 79% in 2 minutes. After doing several more walks I was only desating down to 85%, but this was not acceptable to them. After a lot of coaxing and a threat of not being discharged, I agreed to go home on Oxygen until I got better. On Sunday afternoon at 2pm, almost 7 days to the minute, my 94th sentence was commuted and I was released on good behavior.

This was a tough one, but I’m thankful I survived more or less in tack. I have a lot of hard times ahead of me,because the hardest part of this exacerbation actually begins now. For the next two weeks I’ll be fighting off the prednisone withdrawal symptoms and trying to regain some of my strength. Months of fitness conditioning and endurance building were wiped out in just a single week in the hospital. Then again…. all that conditioning is probably the reason I’m still around to blog about it.

I’d like to thank the following people for putting up with my shit (literally) and for treating me like a human being instead of a medical oddity.

Dr. Erika Moseson, Dr. Daniels, and all the other interns and residents who helped save my life…..again
Also to ICU nurse James, and TCU Nurse Jen O.

Seems to be the new theme around here. Do a long training walk……get sick. ( by sick I mean an asthma exacerbation)

Thursday I did the second to the last of my really long training walks for the Boston and Rome marathons (18.1 miles to be exact), and now, a day later, I’m having a tough time keeping my peak flows out of the red zone. For the first time in a long time, my FEV1

actually dipped below 30%. Ive managed to hold my own by increasing my neb treatments to every 1-2 hours , but Ive been huffing and puffing just walking around my house. Funny how I can walk 18 miles one day, and then have a hard time walking 18 feet the next.

Maybe I over did it, though I’ll be damed if I know how. I felt fine during most of the walk , and to play it cautious , I even walked slower than usual and took half a dozen 3 minute rest breaks along the way. Total time to finish the walk was 4:58 . Other than the noticeable humidity in the air and the smell of fresh cut grass near Crissy field (which can sometimes set me off), overall Id say my breathing was better than average. If anything, it was my arms, legs and feet that were really starting to bother me near the end of the walk.

There are probably numerous environmental and intrinsic factors at play here that are causing me to flare-up after these long walks, but I think the reality is, my disease is simply catching up with me. My lung function and my tolerance for strenuous exercise is declining , and short of a bilateral lung transplant, there’s nothing that will change that. All the more the reason I suppose,to do these upcoming races while I’m still able.

I was asking my friend Mike how he trains for a marathon. His response was, that it takes too much out of him to do traditional mileage building and training walks, so instead, he does core strengthening ( pilates) and a few stair climbs races. Hmmm, maybe he’s on to something. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have as many breathing flare-ups as I do. Geese, I’d love not to have to do training walks for months on end and risk dying every time I train for a marathon, but there’s no way on earth I would have the endurance or the breath to finish one if I didn’t train the way I currently do. Still, I wonder if the means justifies the end..( or something like that) Oddly, I seem to get sick after almost every training walk , but I’ve only gotten sick one time after finishing an actual marathon.

Btw, here’s a Google Map I plotted out of my 18 mile walk. I like this route because it gives you a little bit of everything. City streets, views of the bay, park paths, vistas from the Golden Gate bridge and just the right amount of hills and straight aways.
To take a virtual tour of my course, click on “view larger map”, zoom in anywhere along the purple course line and use the street view feature to see what I see when I walk this course.
Happy Training!

Since no one seems to know why Ive been getting so sick, so frequently lately , and since there’s a tendency to blame walking as a trigger,  I decided to do a little experimenting to see if I could find a link between taking long walks, and my breathing flare-ups.

Last Saturday just 4 days after being released from the prison, I went out and repeated the very same 8 mile walk that I thought might have put me behind bars in the first place. Let me first say, I wouldn’t have even attempted a repeat walk so soon after a hospitalization , but I was breathing easy the evening before, and with the steroids were making me so antsy , I decided to go for it. Though I had to walk slower than I would’ve liked (18 min/mile) , my lungs behaved nicely and the walk went relatively well. I felt so good in fact, that I actually ended up walking 9 miles instead of 8. I tried my best not to racewalk, but foolishness got the best of me and I probably did about a dozen or so short sprints. During the 3 hour walk I experienced chest tightness about every other mile , and think I used my inhaler about 8 times( pretty much normal for me for that distance.) The biggest problem I had was muscle fatigue and the tell tale signs of impending calf cramps, not surprising considering that I was on 40 mg of prednisone at the time and had been bed bound just a week earlier. Anyways, I finished the walk feeling strong. I came home, took an ice bath and had only minor breathing problems the rest of the day.

Sunday morning arrives, and my dyspnea level is noticeably worse than 24 hours earlier and it continues to escalate as the day wears on. ( I know somethings not right when I get  SOB just walking around the house.) My peak flows are still pretty good , but my FEV1s start to drift down. By Sunday evening I’m miserable and to make things worse  I couldn’t blame anyone but myself for the way I felt.  After all, I brought it on myself right?

Monday morning rolls around and I’m breathing great again, so I think to myself…  OK, one day of  bad breathing doesn’t sound like a bad trade-off for one good day of walking,  so why not go for it again . That afternoon I did my 5 mile bridge walk.   Monday night I’m still breathing good, and in fact,  felt better after the walk than before. Tuesday morning, a repeat of Sunday…..I can’t believe it.  I do a walk , and 24 hours later…I can’t breath again!  This is just plain weird.  This time however, the SOB spills over into Wednesday, and by that evening my dypnea level goes through the roof.    Wednesday night was so bad, I actually thought I was going to suffocate and that would be it.   Not only did I feel hyper- inflated , but I could feel my airways tightening up ( bronchospasm) . I was so SOB that I even had a hard time using my nebulizer. I couldn’t take a deep enough breath to get the meds in.  Now,  I’m not an anxious person in general, but I can tell you , that the anxiety of not being able to breath was making things worse. Just the extra brainpower that you consume when you’re anxious, can make you more SOB.   Afraid of falling over the edge and having to  911ing it,  I pulled out every trick in the book to relax my lungs and my brain !   By doing  diaphragmatic breathing exercises, purse-lip breathing, anti anxiety meds, opiates and neb treatments every hour,  I made it though the night ( sitting up).   That was probably a dare devilish move on my part, but at least I’m home right now and not in the hospital.

Thursday morning , exhausted , and still dyspneic from the night before,  I did the unthinkable, ( actually two unthinkables).   First , I bumped up my steroids back to 40 mg , then I  went out for a 5 mile walk!    I figured what the heck,  I’m so SOB anyway, how much worse could it get.  I complete the walk in 2 hours  in 86 degree “Spare The Air Day” weather,  and surprisingly , I was breathing BETTER after that walk…. than    before I left!

Its now Friday morning and I’m still breathing fairly well.  My PF’s are back in the green zone and my FEV1 is 39%.   So whats up?   I do a walk when I’m breathing well and I get sick 24 later.  But then I walk when I’m sick and 24 hours later I’m breathing well again. I must be wired backwards or something.  Maybe bumping up of the steroids had something to do with , but it usually takes at least a day for the extra steroids to take effect.

After a week of good and bad days, the  question remains ..is my walking causing my flare-ups?  Maybe it’s something in the environment?  Maybe  its just me?   Is there some kind of physical stress that I don’t perceive when Im walking that causes a gradual worsening of my symptoms.   Was it foolish to walk when I was already way too SOB to begin with?   That last question is debatable because many so-called experts will tell you to exercise even when you’re SOB. ( in all fairness , that last statement refers primarily to COPDers and not so much to COPD/ asthmatics) .

The experiment was inconclusive.   Because of the delayed response from the time I exercised , till the time I develop symptoms,  I still cannot say with 100% certainty,  that  walking in and of itself, is making me sick.  The search for the elusive trigger continues…  but until its found, I will continue to walk my ass off.

After a record number of admissions to the intensive care unit this year, (5 so far), it was pretty evident that my current asthma action wasn’t working anymore. So, at last weeks pulmonary clinic follow-up visit, we (they) came up with a new asthma action plan that will hopefully reduce that high number of ICU admissions.

For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about; an asthma action plan is basically a set of instructions agreed upon by the patient (me) and the physician (my lung docs), on how to best manage one’s asthma on a daily basis. It includes such things as, how to interpret peak flow readings, when to increase or take certain medicines, what to do if your symptoms get worse, when to contact the your doctor…that sort of thing. The goal for most people of course, is to keep your asthma under control so that it will never escalate to the point where you have a crisis and need to seek emergency medical care.
Well, with very brittle asthmatics, things are a little trickier. The primary goal of the action plan often becomes not one of avoiding the ER, but rather, of going to the ER right away.

The way it worked before, was at the first sign of increased symptoms (ie. my yellow zone) , I would take a loading dose of prednisone (60-80mg) and then wait at least 24 hours for the steroids to take effect. If after that period I felt better…fine. If not , I would call my doctor for further instructions or go to the ER for treatment depending how I felt.

This new action plan eliminates that 24 hour waiting period altogether.
Now , they want me to go to the emergency room immediately after taking the first dose of prednisone and regardless of whether I think it’s necessary or how I feel.
In other words, no more waiting to see if things will get better.

The rationale for all this is ? In their words (not mine):
#1 ) I’m a poor judge when it comes to recognizing the severity of my own symptoms.
#2) Sometime I like to push the envelop.
# 3) It’s better and much safer for someone like me to spend maybe one day in the emergency room, than to spend a week in the intensive care unit….or worse.

Let’s hope I don’t have to put this new plan to the test for a long..long time.
I have a marathon to train for, and even a single day in the hospital is going to screw things up.

Felt pretty good for a few days , even racewalked during a research follow up visit ( more about that later), but now I’m starting to slide back . I don’t know if it’s the steroid taper ( I’m still at 40mg) , or if I’m rebounding, or if I starting exercising too soon, but somethings not quite right.

Today’s test walk was very disappointing. I was so short of breath, I couldn’t racewalk..at all! The best I could do was some regular walking with an occasional sprint thrown in so I that wouldn’t get bored.

My Peak flows are all over the place as well. Today before my walk they were 375, after my walk…240 (almost my red zone). Even when I’m not exerting myself, they’re dipping 100-200 points without rhyme or reason. In addition, my shortness of breath has been near constant, which makes me very irritable and quite bitchy. I havent been able to break through to my green zone in weeks now.

My lung doctors have been expressing their frustration as well. Not so much about the speed of my current recovery , but because I’ve ended up in the hospital 5 times this year and I seem to be getting critically ill now , at the drop of a hat.
They’re now classifying me as a type-1 brittle asthmatic (changed from a type-2) . We’re currently working on a new asthma action plan which includes close monitoring of even the most minor of flare-ups , so they don’t escalate into life- threatening ones. They also want me to stay on steroids ….permanently!
I’ve agreed to stay on a daily maintenance dose of 20mg, but anymore than that is totally out of the question. I might have agreed to more if I was 23 years old, but I’m not…. I’m 53 years old now. I’ve lived a long life with this disease and I’m just too tired to ride the steroid roller coaster anymore. Besides…. a higher maintenance dose would kill me way before the disease does. I ‘ll take my chances without them.

On occasion I receive emails from other asthmatics, commenting on how it is that I’m able maintain such a happy outlook on life with such severe disease. Some have even accused me of being in denial or hiding something. I hope this post dispels those notions. I have bad days just like everyone else, I just don’t let them get the best of me.

On Saturday I was supposed to do a 10 mile walk along the SF waterfront (one that I’ve done countless times before) , but was I was too short of breath , and was only able to complete 7.5 miles .
I probably shouldn’t have even attempted the walk in the first place , as I’d been having problems the previous week. It was a beautiful day though, and I thought that once I got moving, I’d press on and get through it. Instead, I got tired and frustrated and just gave up. It’s not so much the fact that I was unable to finish the walk that worries me, it’s that I gave up so easily. For the first time, I had absolutely no desire in torturing myself over a silly walk. Two years ago, I would have never referred to this as a “silly” walk. It’s the curse of yellow zone again !

If you’ve ever read through my posts, no doubt you’ve seen the little blinking lights at the top of each post, but did you ever wonder what they really mean? Do you really care?

Because this blog is as much about living with lung disease as it is about endurance walking, I wanted a simple way to tie the two together and give you, the reader, a sense of how I’m breathing, without throwing it in your face.

The “traffic light” system I devised is loosely based on the peak-flow meter “zone” system that most asthmatics and the medical establishment uses. I take it a step further by including subject input as well , i.e. do I feel short of breath?

The Green light or (green zone ) represents how I feel when I’m symptom- free at rest. It doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m breathing normal ( I never breath normal), rather, it means I’m breathing at my baseline, which in my case , represents a peak flow of greater than 550 and symptoms only on exertion. In general , it means I’m breathing OK and that I’m happy.

The Red light indicates the obvious. It means that I’m extremely short of breath and that a more serious exacerbation is either occurring, or is imminent .
You won’t see many of these lights, because I’m either too sick to blog about it, or I’m already in the hospital.

The color I dread the most is Yellow. The clinical term ( if there was one) would probably be ” mild exacerbation” or “flare up”.
This is where I spend at least half my life. It’s kind of an asthma Purgatory. It seems to come out of the blue and can last for a few days, or a few weeks! There’s no dramatic scenes of someone gasping and wheezing, this is a place where you suffocate in silence.
When you’re in this zone, breathing becomes very uncomfortable. It feels like someone is sitting on my chest. You may or may not be wheezing, but you have a hard time exhaling because of air trapping. You feel like you’re dying, but your not….. you feel miserable!
You’re too short of breath to do much of anything, but because your peak flows are not in the Red zone , you’re not sick enough to seek emergency medical attention care. The best you can do is notify your caregiver , ( if you can get a hold of them) or follow an asthma action plan that you devised with your doctor. In my case, I increase all my medications , start on the prednisone (if I’m not already on it), closely monitor my peak flows and oxygen saturations, and try to stay calm as possible. You try to convince yourself that this is only temporary, and that you ‘ll be back in the green real soon ( at least that’s what I do).

Currently I’ve been cycling between the green and yellow zones about every 3 weeks, spending equal amounts of time in each zone. Because I’m extremely strong willed and have a very high tolerance for breathing discomfort, I’m able to function better than most, and sometimes, can even walk quite far when I’m in the yellow zone. However, as the ratio of green to yellow days continues to decline, I’m finding it harder and harder to cope with everyday life let alone racewalking.

I hope this phase passes quickly, I have a marathon to walk in less than 4 weeks!