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LIVING WITH EMPHYSEMA
REPOST By Christianne R. a/k/a GrammaCeeCee on 01 27 2005 [She passed away suddenly and unexpected a while back from a brain aneurism unrelated to smoking. Be sure to read her update at the end.]
Dear friend, I am 56 and I was your age when the doctor told me that I was starting to develop emphysema. I thought maybe I'd give you some insight as to what your life will be like when you're 56 and still smoking.
Wake up... can't breathe. Take off my breathing mask that I have to sleep with for sleep apnea. I forget to breathe while I'm sleeping plus for some reason, when I lay down my oxygen isn't saturated by my blood, so I have oxygen hooked up, too.
So I have to turn off the CPAP machine and the oxygen machine (it doesn't really go with the decor in my bedroom but there's no place I can hide it).
Barely make it to my nebulizer. Hands are shaking as I try to open my two medicine vials to put in the nebulizer. I'm deep breathing (pucker - breaths, like the respirator therapist taught me) to try and get the carbon dioxide out of my lungs).
Relief, finally, after a few puffs. Finish the 15-minute treatment. Take a puff of Advair for my asthma. Feeling really great.
Pour a cup of coffee and head out to the porch to have my first 3 cigarettes of the day now that my lungs are cleared.
Make sure I have plenty of Kleenex in my pocket so that when I cough up all that phlegm I have a place to put it.
Finished newspaper, coffee, cigarettes, and coughing.
Am feeling a bit tired but I need to let the dogs out to run. Two little miniature dachshunds... property has a very slight incline but I'm already having trouble breathing. I sure hope that it's time for another breathing treatment soon... geesh!
I still have to wait for another hour.
Better just sit and watch television and save my energy until then. I'll clean the house later.
Won't make the bed yet because I'll probably take a nap in a little bit. (With my oxygen mask, etc.)
Phone call... ran out of breath trying to get to the phone before the answering machine turns on. Having a hard time talking... hard to breath and talk at the same time. Don't seem to enjoy phone conversations like I used to.
Finally, it's 10am and I can have another breathing treatment.
Let's see... time for another few cigarettes after the treatment to "clear out my lungs".
Of course, if I bothered to take the expectorant that the doctor gave me, it would clear out my lungs, too, without putting all that junk back into my lungs.
Mailman came...wonder if I'll make it to the mailbox?
Well, I made it to the mailbox but sure am having trouble getting a good breath. It's a good thing I put that chair in the front yard, halfway to the mailbox. Sit down and catch my breath. That's better.
Head up to the porch to read the mail. Have another couple of cigarettes. Can't breath again but it's time for another breathing treatment.
2pm.
Better get to the grocery store in between breathing treatments. I'll take my portable nebulizer just in case I get really bad. Oh, I better not forget my oxygen because all that walking in the grocery store will use up my oxygen.
I hate having to have the box girl (who is really not a girl but a woman who is probably close to my age) help me unload the groceries, but I just don't have enough air left to do it myself.
I smoke a cigarette in the car, remembering to turn off my portable oxygen so I don't blow myself up. Finish the cigarette and turn the oxygen back on. I sure wish it was time for that breathing treatment!
When I get home, I don't have enough air to unload all the groceries so I bring in only the frozen and refrigerated things. Dear hubby will have to bring in the rest when he gets home.
Good thing I had them bag them separately at the market. I'm so tired, probably from not getting enough oxygen and all that walking I did in the grocery store.
Maybe if I take a nap until it's time for my breathing treatment, I'll feel better.
6 pm breathing treatment. Thank heavens! Feel much better.
Hubby is home so I sneak out to the front porch to have a cigarette after dinner. He's think's I've quit smoking...yeah, right! Finish my smoke… chew some gum... spray some perfume and I figure he won't notice the smell of the smoke... yeah, right!
That my friend is what living with emphysema and smoking is like! I can't begin to tell you how much I wish I had quit smoking years ago before I had done the damage to my lungs. But I also can't begin to tell you how much better I feel since I QUIT!
It's never too late, but then, again, it's never too early to quit smoking!
Christie 10 days, 9 hours, 39 minutes and 34 seconds smoke free. 104 cigarettes not smoked. $22.00 and 19 hours of my life saved. My quit date: 1/16/2005 11:00:00 PM
UPDATE: Smoking With Emphysema... true story
From GrammaCeeCee2006 on 10/25/2006 11:34:29 PM
I'm honored that you saved this post from so far back. I thought it only fair that I update you on how my life has changed since I quit smoking 647 days ago.
I still have COPD (Emphysema and/or Chronic Bronchitis) because once you have it, it never goes away. But… my breathing tests show an increase from 34% lung capacity to 44% lung capacity, just because I quit smoking!
This is considered to be Stage 3 (there are only 4 Stages of COPD).
I attended Pulmonary Rehabilitation classes and learned how to breathe properly (pursed lip breathing). I walk on the treadmill and exercise daily. Instead of using oxygen 24/7, I no longer have to use oxygen AT ALL!
I only take 2 medications daily for my lungs (Advair and Spiriva) and very, very rarely have to use my "emergency” inhaler.
I no longer use a nebulizer. I have lost over 20 pounds and kept it off with more to come through healthy choices in my food.
(Heck, once you succeed in quitting smoking you can do ANYTHING!)
So, I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that it is NEVER too late to quit smoking.
And, it's definitely never too early to quit
I wish you all the courage to take charge of your life and your health.
You are the only one who can quit making excuses.
Knowing that I can never have "just one" is the key to my success in quitting.
I now know that there is no such thing as "just one”.
Hugs, Gramma CeeCee (what my grandchildren call me) formerly ChristianneR/Christie (My real name) 647 days quit