Lungs in Crisis II

Day 52 – June 11, 2003: I visited the pulmonologist with a bit of hope and a lot of trepidation. I was hoping for an easy answer or a quick solution. I feared something worse, possibly emphysema, which killed my grandfather or lung cancer, which killed both my father and stepfather.

Of course a visit to a new doctor brings with it a slew of duplicate forms that must be filled out in triplicate before you are allowed past security into the holy grail of medicine: the waiting room beyond the waiting room. You know the one that you are led to after your name is called and you are thinking to yourself the wait wasn't so bad. Then the nurse has you take a seat. She asks you a few questions, takes your vitals and then informs you that the doctor will see you soon. She than quickly leaves the room shutting the door behind her.

At this point the butterflies were fighting to escape my belly. My breathing, which of course was already bad seemed to be more labored than usual. My eyes roamed the small room taking in my surroundings. I always bring a book to these appointments but I was unable to find the concentration needed to get past the first page.

Finally after what seemed like hours the pulmonologist came in and introduced himself. We then began the usual round of twenty questions.

Why are you here?

What seems to be the problem?

What are your symptoms?

Do you have any allergies?

On and on the questions went which I answered to the best of my ability. He examined my ears, nose and throat. Asked me a few more questions and than came to a conclusion. He felt that my problem must be allergy related and he wanted me to take a series of allergy medicines and steroids.

I had already explained to him the difficulty I have with steroids due to ongoing battle with panic disorder. However, in his opinion the dose of steroids he was recommending would not be enough to cause a panic attack. I was not convinced but I did agree to give it a try.

He had his secretary schedule an appointment for July 9th and he sent me on my way prescriptions in hand.

Day 55 – June 14, 2003: When it comes to illness and medicine one should always listen to ones inner voice. I made the mistake of listening to my pulmonologist rather than my instinct when it came to the ingestion of steroids.

The evening of the 14th found me waiting in the emergency room of the local hospital fighting a losing battle with a severe panic attack. My blood pressure was through the roof. My entire body was shaking. My chest was constricted and I was sure this was the big one. On the other hand the small little logical part of my mind knew it was nothing more than a panic attack but logic is thrown out the window when primal instinct strikes.

When I finally saw the doctor she confirmed that I was having a panic attack and nothing more. She gave me a double dose of Xanex, recommended that I stay away from steroids and advised me to see my primary care doctor on Monday.

Once the Xanex kicked in and she saw that I was calming down she sent me on my merry way.

Day 58 – June 17, 2003: With cough in hand I returned to the hallowed halls of my primary care physician. I had not seen her since my visit with the pulmonologist so I shared the tale and explained about the steroids and my visit to the emergency room. She seconded the ER doctor's opinion and suggested that my body become a no steroid zone. However, she was concerned about the increased frequency of my panic attacks even without the influence of steroids. I was already taking Paxil but the dosage did not seem to be working as well. She thought it might be time to see a psychologist but being my usual stubborn self I resisted the recommendation.

Day 80 – July 9, 2003: I returned to the pulmonologist with no progress to show for the four weeks of treatment. I explained to him about the steroids but he just did not seem to understand. I had the feeling that he had never dealt with a patient who suffered from panic disorder. With my pet cough still following around and the wheezing of my lungs still obvious he recommended treatment plan B. A non-steroidal inhaler, a different brand of allergy medicine and a follow up visit in three weeks.

Day 101 – July 30, 2003: the 30th found me oh so happy to once again be sitting in the waiting room of my pulmonologist watching three tropical fish swim around an oversized tank. They were probably wondering what I was in for. Three more weeks had shown no change in my condition. Cough check. Wheezing check. Panic check. Sick and tired of being sick check. Another patient doctor conference and Mr. Lung Expert is still stuck on his allergy kick. His recommendation was one new non-steroidal inhaler, new allergy medicine and three weeks until I visit again.

At this point I am ready to call in reinforcements but everyone swears that he is the best in the area. So I take me prescriptions to the pharmacy and I begin to seriously consider searching out a witch doctor. Hell he couldn't do any worse than the pulmonologist has so far.

Thus ends Lungs In Crisis II