on the nature of breathing

My spring break (and actually all semester) has been taken up with fighting asthma. Asthma and lung problems were a primary symptom when I was diagnosed with lupus back in the early 90s and it seems all of this is becoming gradually a bit worse--overall, unfortunately, my illness is sadly a bit worse these days, not surprising given the amount of years I have been with it, and I am going through a course of prednisone. Cortisone knocks the illness out, but at 60 mg and above, I seem to turn into a werewolf. I am glad to be on the lower dosages now, where I feel relatively normal. I should be off prednisone this week. My doctors do not yet know if there is a problem with lupus bothering my lungs as well in some new or different way. I will be having a full pulmonary workup and a chest x-ray at the local hospital this week. I hate descending into the nether world of hospitals and doctors again, but it is my Persephone sort of existence at times.

I truly could not breathe well this week and realize what a gift it is, that breath is truly the source of life itself. A friend taught me a mantra and breathing exercise to use for calming and for reminding myself to take deep breaths, the "sohum" meditation (the link on this day's title is to an article by Deepak Chopra on this). It is very simple and calming, regardless of whether one believes in things spiritual.

I was also given in the ER last week the following curious device, called an acapella.

It literally gives a mini-massage to my lungs, basically, shaking loose some of the less desirable stuff that my nonproductive cough will not bring up on its own. It greatly helps in clearing my lungs out. Breathing is really not an option!! :)

It is very funny and is now labeled "the pickle." Or the "ocarina," or the "pickle ocarina."

As an aside to all this, my son Riff, home for a few days while moving from one place to the other, said that he dreamed last night we were walking up a hill, and heard the sound of a wild pig being killed in the dark woods; out of the woods walked a beautiful wolf, who had dispatched the pig. The wolf is my totem spirit (and ironically, lupus means "wolf" in Latin), and so I felt this was a positive image that my body and spirit are strong and will get over what I am experiencing now. It is just a bit of a "dark forest."

I do feel I am going to be okay and that this is a bit of a setback only in my journey to live a full and happy life despite my disability. A hidden disability is often very perplexing, especially one such as mine, which waxes and wanes. When I am reminded to slow down, I am learning to do so, to accept what is right now, to do what I can within this one day only, not worry too terribly much about the future, and above all, slow down and breathe.