How’s this for a view!

In just a few weeks , if all goes as planned, I hope to be standing on that very same rock with a half a dozen of my COPD friends.

The brainchild of my Boston marathon walking partner Mike Mc Bride, the “COPD Mt Evans Challenge” as he calls it, is simply about a bunch of friends with severe lung disease, getting together for a day and hiking to the summit of one of the tallest mountains in the Rockies of Colorado…. just for the heck of it! No, we’re not going to scale an entire mountain, but we will be walking up the steepest portion of one.

Starting in Idaho Springs,elevation 8,700 ft, we’re gonna drive up the mountain road 9 miles to Summit Lake, which is situated at the 12,800 ft level. From there we’re gonna hike the last 5 miles on foot up to the summit of the mountain, which sits 14,220 ft above sea level. My COPD friends will be using high -flow oxygen @ 15 lpm to make the trek up the mountain I hopefully, will not need supplemental O2, but I’ll be closely monitoring my O2 sats just in case.

As you can see in this photo taken earlier this year during a race up the mountain, the grade along certain portions of the road is pretty steep. The part that we’re gonna be doing, gains approximately 1600 ft in elevation in just over 5 miles.

( Mike Mc Bride and Roxlyn Cole testing out their oxygen equip)

What makes this particular walk such a challenge for me (and for the other lungers), is the altitude and the steepness of the climb.
Excluding being a passenger in a pressurized airplane, this will be the highest altitude my body has ever been exposed to. The last walk I did that involved a mountain, was back in 2008 when I did the ET midnight marathon in the Nevada desert. And while it was a much longer walk ( 13.1 miles) , we only reached a maximum elevation of 5,500 feet during the race. The summit of Mt Evans is almost 3 times higher.

My lungs are not a big fan of climbing hills. I can barely walk uphill the two blocks it takes to reach my house, let alone 5.5 miles up the side of a mountain. Putting the physical challenges aside though, the main reason I wanna do this is, is to take in the sheer beauty of it all. I think Mountains are awesome.

If you’d like to read more, or maybe even join us, check out at Roxlyn Coles blog

It’s been almost a year since Ive updated my asthma status. Here’s the latest report card. For the year, I give myself a C +

In general my lung function has only declined a couple percent which is good. The problem of course, is that when you’re down in the lower ranges like I am, even the slightest change can have a huge impact on the way you feel. My baseline FEV1 now ranges from 33-42%, compared to 36-47% a year ago.

Probably the most noticeable change, and my biggest complaint by far, is that I get short of breath much faster now when engaging in even physical activity. Magnify that 3 or 4 fold when I do activities like racewalking or marathon walking.

My dependence on opiates and anxiolytics to quell my breathlessness keeps growing. Where I used to only take these drugs occasionally, I now take them on a daily basis.
The good news is that they do help and have probably kept me out of the hospital on more than on occasion.

My medical establishment labels are unchanged ( no big surprise there). Under the GINA guidelines, I’m still labeled a severe persistent asthmatic. Under the brand new SARP phenotypes for severe asthmatics, I’m labeled a Catagory/Cluster 5, Childhood onset asthmatic. ( Thank you Dr Wenzel)

Symptoms
• I’m pretty much short of breath to some degree all the time now (even when I’m in my green zone). Most of the time it doesn’t bother me because I’m used to it. But in addition to the low level chronic breathlessness, I’ve also been getting these short, but very intense bouts of dyspnea which seem to spring out of nowhere. The sensation is like that of sudden suffocation. It’s like someone put a bag over my head. It feels like my respiratory muscles are too weak to expand my lungs when I take a breath in. The sensation makes me anxious, which then perpetuates this viscous cycle of not being able to catch my breath. It’s awful. This video ,which Ive used before in my blog posts, does a great job of depicting what these intense mini attacks kinda feel like. The only difference is that I don’t struggle the way the actor does in the clip.
  Thankfully these bouts only last an hour or two and are usually relieved with meditative breathing, multiple back to back neb treatments and sometimes opiates. Unfortunately, these intense flares seem to be occurring more frequent now….almost daily. They’re probably a result of declining lung volumes and increased sensitivity to air-trapping.
• For the last 6 months I’ve also noticed a slight, but persistent audible insp wheeze when I breath. Hence, the “Inhaler voice” It’s more annoying than anything else, but I hate the way it makes my voice sound. ENT actually checked my vocal cords and they look fine ( no stenosis)
• It’s becoming increasingly more difficult for me to sleep laying flat. I now have to pretty much sleep with my back propped up, almost to a sitting position. Last year I switched from a conventional bed to a foam bed, which helped ease my lower back pain.
• A noticeable decreasing tolerance to exercise and physical exertion in general. I get winded much easier now when I do any type of exercise or walks.

Incarcerations

• 2 hospital admissions so far this year, totaling 12 days. 8 of those in the ICU, and 2 of those on a ventiltor.
• Ive had one intubation this year, bringing my lifetime total to 16 ( we’re talking Ripleys Believe it or not stuff)

Fitness and Diet
• Despite my worsening dyspnea, I still force myself to walk at least 4 days a week ( 4-6 miles per walk) and even farther when I’m training for a race.
• Earlier this month, I switched to an all organic diet. Additionally, Ive cut my sugar intake in half and eliminated HFCS almost completely. It’s way too soon to see how much of an impact this new way of eating will have on my health in general, but I suspect it will eventually be a positive one. How could it not.

Treatment Plans
• My Asthma action plan and medication list are pretty much unchanged, except that I take methadone (10mg) every evening now.

New Treatment Options
• Bronchial Thermoplasty is no longer an option for me. My asthma is too severe, my lungs are too scarred. (* Speaking of Bronchial Thermoplasty, this is one of better articles Ive read on the subject. It’s objective, factual and well written)
• I’m waiting for clinical trials to begin ( hopefully by this time next year) on some new Th2 (IL-4/IL-13) blocking drugs.

  Th2 blocking drugs (if they turn out to work), block protein factors related to, but not the same thing as, allergy. These blockers are believed to work “higher up” on the immune inflammatory cascade (where things are getting started) so that they “could” block more things of relevance to asthma. I have a problem with mucus blocking my tiniest airways, which causes me to air trap. (air trapping is the number 1 cause of my suffering). We’re hoping that this new class of drugs might help with that. ( per Dr Sally Wenzel)

Here’s a question Ive been asking myself a lot lately (thanks to a most cool brother);

When it comes to improving my fitness, why should I go through all the pain and sacrifice of exercising my body hard everyday, if I’m gonna continue to throw toxic chemicals into it? Doesn’t make much sense.. does it?

Good old fashioned common sense (which sometimes eludes me), tells me that eating healthy and natural untainted foods, surely must be better you for you than ingesting food that is treated with hormones and pesticides. How could it not?
Convinced that this is not only the right thing to do, but also the wisest, I’ve decided to switch from a conventional diet, to an all Organic one.

Ive already started with fruits and vegetables because they’re easier to find at the local markets. As I get better at doing this, I’ll start including dry and canned goods, and then eventually on to meats and dairy. I’d like to be 90% organic in 3-4 months.

Going Organic is obviously more expensive, but cost shouldn’t be an excuse. I spend $60 on gym fees and $25 for a haircut every month without batting an eye. Why would I even think twice about spending a little extra on something that can only make my life better. Besides, there are informational web tools out there that can help you get the biggest bang for your organic buck… you just have to be a savvy shopper and know what to look for. Remember too, that locally grown food takes less gas to transport it to market, which means less environmental pollution. So there’s a positive impact on more than just ones own body.

Without getting into politics of what’s considered safe and healthy, the turning point for me was this; Why do something only half right? Improving your health requires more than just working out regularly, you also need to fuel and nourish your body with clean natural food.
I love this line by Michael Palin……
“All I ask of food, is that it doesn’t harm me.” (Monty Python’s Flying Circus)

Buon appetito!

Ive been getting a lot of email lately from people asking me if I’m gonna have the new Bronchial Thermoplasty procedure done. The answer is No. Unfortunately, my asthma is too severe even for the thermoplasty ,which is being touted as a treatment reserved for the most severe form of asthma …go figure. Actually, I don’t have a lot of the reactive smooth muscle in my larger airways that Thermoplasty targets. Most of my airway narrowing takes place deep down in my lungs in the smaller airways, where they cant reach with this device.

I’m sure this new treatment will help a lot of people, but I’m not convinced that this is the magic bullet that we’ve all been waiting for. It also seems that the company’s definition of “very severe asthma”, is somewhat different than my own. Ironically, I was denied entry into the clinical trials phase of this new procedure back in 2006, because my asthma was deemed “too severe” by the study investigators.

People with very severe chronic asthma usually have a fair amount of scarring, and some have less twitchiness in their large airways. It would seem to me, that this new procedure has a better chance of success on those individuals who have moderate to severe persistent asthma, but whose primary problem is spastic airways, and who don’t have a lot of airway remodeling. Although in both cases, inflammation can play a significant role in asthma and its symptoms. Bronchial thermoplasty is not known to do anything to inflammation.

Even if I was a suitable candidate for the procedure, I’m not really sure I’d want to have it done. There just hasn’t been enough research on it in the real world, and any scientific proof that it actually works, is marginal at best. Now that this device is approved for use in the US, I think it would be wise to wait a while and see what the outcomes will be like.

It’s been just over 2 weeks now since I did the Boston marathon, and except for today, which I can’t blame on the marathon, Ive managed to stay pretty healthy. That hasn’t always been the case right after a big race. Looking back on how things played out on Boston weekend, I think the strategy of proactively medicating with prednisone, paid off . If you remember, I bumped up my pred to 60 mg 2 days prior to the race and then rapidly weaned back down afterward. I still got really tight and wheezy immediately after the race and had to take several back to back neb treatments throughout that evening, but thanks to the prednisone I was able to keep things from escalating. I think a lot of the post-race flaring was caused by my body being in state of shock from all the exertion I put it through. As much as I hate the stuff, I think the prednisone did a great good job at protecting my airways during the race and in the hours and days that followed. It might have even kept me out of the hospital.

Another thing I learned from doing this marathon, is that I need to take off a few pounds. I mean it just makes sense that the lighter you are on your feet, the faster you’ll be on your feet. The less you weigh, the less stress you’ll put on your legs and feet and even your heart and lungs. I might not look real fat, but the fact is, I’m 10 lbs over my ideal body weight. For the Boston marathon I weighed in at 150 lbs, which is the heaviest Ive ever been at any of the marathons Ive done. Part of that weight gain was probably from steroids, but I’m sure the bulk of it was from eating too much fattening food during the winter holidays.
Back in 2006 when I walked my fastest marathon ever, I weighed 144lbs. We’re only talking 6lbs less , but that 6 lbs made a world of difference when it came to speed. I ended up finishing that race almost 30 minutes faster than I did this one. Too bad I didn’t pre-medicate with prednisone during that 2006 race, because two days after that race I ended up in the hospital. But back then, the whole marathon/ severe asthma thing was still new to me , and I wasn’t yet convinced that walking a marathon could actually make me sick(which by the way, I fully believe is the case now.) As far as my weight goes, you might not know this, but since I began walking for fitness back in 2004, Ive actually lost and kept off nearly 20 pounds. That’s right, the steroids along with a lack of physical activity, was turning me into a little blimp.

So anyway, to put into action the things Ive learned from the Boston experience, Ive set a goal to loose 7 lbs and then keep it off. I will accomplish this by doing more strength training at the gym and by eliminating some of the junk food from my diet. I hoping to knock these pound off in about 2 months, just in time for my next gig ( whatever that might me). And from now, every race I do, I’m going to bump up my pred. Yes, I hate the drug, but if it will keep me out of the intensive care unit, I’ll take it.

Speaking of the Boston marathon, my friend and ever so funny walking partner/guide in that race , Miss Dizzy Lizzy, is finally getting caught up on her blogging ( Some excuse about not having her laptop). Anyways, she promises to have a race report about the Boston marathon , up by this weekend. I love reading other people accounts of that race.

Ok, so I look really strong in some of my finish line photos, but believe me.. looks can be very very deceiving. I’m an expert at hiding what I feel inside (I think most asthmatics are, to some degree.) Behind those smiles were waves of excruciating pain shooting down my legs. My breathing was really labored at times and my calf muscles felt like they were going to explode, but I told myself at the start of this race that if I made it past mile 21, that no matter how bad my breathing was, or how much pain I might be in, that I would push on with positive thoughts in my head and a smile on my face….And that’s exactly what I did! And if for no other reason, that’s why I’m so proud of myself for finishing the race in style.

If you look really deep, you can see the pain starting to come through
(Finish line photos)

I don’t care how healthy you are, even if just walking a marathon, when you get to a certain distance in a race, your body starts to hurt really bad (I think that’s what they mean by “Hitting the WALL”). The problem is, you can’t really stop moving or you run the risk of your whole body cramping up. It’s happened to me before, and I’m telling ya..it ain’t a pretty scene. A full body cramp would end the race for you , right then and there. So after 20 miles, you do whatever you can to stretch out those muscles while you’re moving, but you never stop.

So what did it take to get this 55 year old severe asthmatic across the finish line at the Boston marathon?
Well, how about lot’s of training, lots of medications and a ton of determination and willpower! Having a good friend walking along side of you , who makes you laugh constantly, probably helps as well.. Thank goodness for Lizzy.

Here are couple photos I left out of the main photo set. I think you know why…

(Had to stop to sneek a neb treatment about every 7 miles along the course… this eats up a lot of time )

( Needed 3 neb treatments back to back after crossing the finish line. )

Here are a few other things you probably didn’t know

*To control my asthma during this 26.2 mile race, in addition to the neb treatments every 7 miles, I took appx 24 hits off my inhaler ( about 3 puffs per hour). On top of the inhaled drugs, I swallowed 10 mg of prednisone every hour , chased by an antacid to control the stomach burning that the prednisone causes in the first place . Thank You Jon ( our spotter who went and got me some TUMS in the middle of the race.

*To control the pain in my calve muscles and the metatarsalgia pain in my feet, I took 2 Motrins every 2 hours along the course, 6 in total.

*For energy and hydration , I consumed 2-4 oz of plain water every mile, alternating with Gatorade every other mile. I did this for the first 20 miles, then switched to a 50-50 blend of electrolytes and water (2 oz) every mile for the rest of the race. In addition, I swallowed one Powerbar gel ( tangerine with double caffeine) every 6 miles.

So as you can see, doing this race ( or any other for that matter) wasn’t as as easy for me as most people might think. I just make it look that way:-)

(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.

I wasn’t going to post this, but I just couldn’t resist. Here’s the bill for my little New Years week stint at the local pokey.

For fun, I threw in one of the 12 pages of itemized charges to give you an idea how much individual things cost. Like for example, the Ventilator charge per day. Or how much the continuous nebulizer costs for the first hour, and then how much it costs for each additional HOUR. (Remember, I was on a continuous neb for 48+ hours!)

The cost of inpatient hospital care is just mind boggling.

Yes, I have medical insurance ( at least for now)

I’m not totally out of the woods yet and I don’t want to jinx myself, but for the first time in 2 weeks, I actually feel like a human being again. I can breath!
To celebrate, I went ahead and got the first of those 3 goodies that I promised myself…..namely, a haircut! (Yikes…I look a little too str8 now). The new shoes and the Manilow Paris Las Vegas show tickets are in the mail.

You know with all the suffering that’s been going on in the world lately, I feel extremely fortunate in so many ways. I may have really bad asthma, but I also have access to some of the best medical care on the planet. I’m surrounded by caring people, and blessed with the support of others who know what’s it like to live with a chronic disease. I would say I’m pretty lucky and have very little to complain about.

And in case you haven’t heard, SARP is now on Facebook. And thanks to Kerri’s efforts, there’s also a Fan page.

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.

Before I begin, let me preface this post by saying that I haven’t made up my mind as to whether I would even want lung transplant surgery, should it ever get to that point. I wanted however, to see what some of my Pulmonologists views were on this subject, and to get a feel for what kind of support I would have in whatever treatment option I pursued.

So last week I got together with 3 of my UCSF Pulmonologists to discuss my SARP evaluation and Dr Wenzel’s recommendation that I consider lung transplant surgery in the future. I began the conversation by bringing up all the wonderful things that the SARP study was accomplishing, which seemed to put a smile on a everyone’s face. But, the minute I mentioned the “T” word, you could sense the tension in the air. You might even say, that tempers were starting to flare…including mine.

No Way! … are you even close to being a candidate for lung transplant surgery, was their general response. After all, you can walk marathons! ( yeah…like I didn’t see that one coming )
Even if my FEV1s were to totally bottom out and I was at the point where I was needing supplemental oxygen 24 hours a day, if I were still able to walk ….even just a 10K, I would not be eligible for new lungs. It just wouldn’t look right.

They went on to reassure me however, that even though I have extremely severe asthma, that my PFTs have been relatively stable over the past 4 years and that there’s no scientific evidence to suggest that people with severe disease plateau at a certain level and then suddenly experience a rapid deterioration . (I’m not an MD or a scientist, but I don’t totally agree with that last statement.)

Beyond whether or not I would meet the actual criteria for acceptance into a transplant program, I think their main concern, was that I somehow didn’t understand all the implications of having this life-altering , can’t- undo-it , type of procedure done . In their view , I would just be exchanging one set of problems for another. Though they agree that I would probably be breathing a lot easier after transplantation, there’s also a good chance that my life would be cut short. This is why they prefer you to be on deaths door before considering such radical treatment. Tissue rejection is still a huge problem in lung transplant recipients, as they haven’t quite figured a way to administer just the right amount of medication to prevent rejection, without killing the patient in the process.

They claim, that while there are a few miracle stories out there of people thriving and living long lives after receiving new lungs, the fact is, the vast majority of lung transplant recipients are not so lucky. The survival rate is still very dismal and pretty much a crap shoot. Only 2 out of 5 people will survive 5 years after transplant, and many of the people who do survive, are plagued with frequent life threatening infections due to weakened immune systems. You have to be on potent anti-rejection drugs for the rest of your life and will need constant medical monitoring. I’m not sure I like the idea of having to be around hospitals, anymore often than I am now.

OK, so I see their point about this being an option of last resort, and I appreciate all the concern . I don’t agree with all of it, but I understand it. I think the real reason I got the response I got, is because I have asthma as a diagnosis. There have only been a few asthmatics that have ever been transplanted. The fact that I don’t require supplemental oxygen ( yet) is a huge factor too. In every other way, my lungs are trashed, but Im able to oxygenate.

I guess I should be relieved that I’m not considered sick enough to warrant transplant surgery, but at the same time, when one of the most respected asthma doctors in the world, tells you that you should seriously consider it, I think it’s worth learning as much as you can about it , so that you’re better prepared if the time should come. And while my current feeling is that I wouldn’t want the surgery done, who knows how I’ll feel about it a year from now, or if I get to the point where I’m struggling for every breath.

That bit about “being able to walk marathons” really got me to thinking about just how misunderstood I am and how misinformed people can be. It felt as those they were using my incredible physical fitness achievements, against me. For some reason there’s this crazy notion, even among lung doctors, that people with severe lung disease are supposed to fit a certain mold.
My response to that would be… why would I even want to.

They agreed that we should revisit this issue again in 6 months. Maybe things will be different then.