It happened at lunch. I was talking with a colleague and he had just uttered a sentence about one of his favourite actors. It was rather funny, in retrospect. He had said something like how a big year for this actor had suddenly dwindled to barely anything due to deferred movie-release dates and how disappointed he was to not be seeing him on screen – and suddenly I leapt up and bolted away from him, flapping my hands as if to say – no more please! He was left wondering, what did he say?
I had just swallowed a mouthful of salad and then I was drowning. I could draw no air in and I knew that I was going to be doing a lot of nasty coughing and gasping while my body fought to get some air. I don't like being near anyone when this happens, it is so ugly and frightening to feel and unpleasant to watch. I absolutely hate this state of being unable to do anything but fight to breathe. So I galloped into the bathroom, locked the door and coughed and coughed and gasped and wheezed and spluttered and felt all this horrible fluid which wouldn't come up or out, it just sat there heavy and blocking…
It took several minutes to stop the paroxysm of coughing, and to get my breathing under some semblance of control. I tried my voice and it was a pathetic whisper – I couldn't breathe and speak at the same time. I waited until I felt like I wasn't going to cough and gasp any more, and then came out to a bewildered colleague who didn't know whether to be concerned or to laugh it off. I made a weak joke about his favourite actor and how I couldn't stand to hear his name, but even those words were too much – I could barely get the words out and I couldn't eat any more lunch.
To calm myself down I nibbled on my go-to food – the most primal food in my memory – chocolate. It’s melty texture and wonderful taste brought comfort and reassurance. I took several bursts of my asthma puffer (not that I could hold my breath to get it into my lungs properly), and I followed it up with the best thing I know of to open up the bronchioles – short, strong black coffee, which had the added bonus of taking away the anxiety associated with the struggle for breath, replacing it with cheerful confidence and a mood-default set to above-average.
And so passed the crisis. Kind of put a damper on lunch, though. And the conversation.
My lungs continue to be heavy and full of fluid. I don’t know how to shift it. Probably I will need some cough/lung tonic based on Chinese herbs as well as an acupuncture session. Then one day it will shift of its own accord. I know what it’s to do with – a few weeks ago I had a big upset where I was really distressed, and this is the fallout. Grief and shock can physically centre on the lungs, and an inability to speak (through, say, suppression, intimidation or invalidation) can centre on the throat.
I have moved through that emotional trauma, so it remains for the physical aspect to lift. In the meantime it is very challenging to navigate through the days when at any moment the tide rises and the fight to breathe is on.