I’ve had a bit of good news in recent weeks. I’m likely to live longer than I might otherwise done. And why? Because I no longer appear to have chronic asthma, a condition that has plagued me for about 30 years. Various studies suggest I may have gained two years of extra life, others suggest more than that. The only problem with this, to rehash an old Billy Connolly gag, is that these extra years, if they occur, will take place at the end of my life and not the good bits in the middle. Potentially, I could enjoy a couple more years pissing my pants, consuming food after it’s been through a blender and watching This Morning.
I vividly remember my first asthma attacks. I used to take the train to work, first walking around 20 minutes to the station. I started to get breathless and tight-chested, especially on a chilly day, and one day I reached the station and had to lean against the wall on the way to the platform because I could hardly breathe. I sought medical treatment.
After various tests, a GP diagnosed ‘late onset asthma’, although the explanation as to how it happened never progressed beyond ‘it happens, we don’t know why’. From then onwards, I used inhalers, one the long term version and another to give immediate relief when an attack came along. I have struggled on through three decades, wheezing my way around various golf courses and even a long walk would require a period of rest and a quick puff on the inhaler. I had annual tests and while things never got worse, they never got better.
My asthma was referred to as ‘chronic’, which is what it is when you have it for a long time. I was assured it would never go away. But late last year, my asthma started to improve. My frequent use of the inhaler started to tail off until shortly after Christmas when it cleared up altogether. I could hardly believe it. Then, I had a thought. Our final cat, Reg, died last year. I’d always had bad, though temporary reactions to cats, in the form of sneezing and runny eyes. The passing of Reg was very sad for the family and yet the awkward truth for me was that my asthma, if that’s what it was, had gone with him.
My annual questionnaire came from the health centre and I found myself replying to the questions saying I no longer used nor needed an inhaler and that my breathing was the best it had been for around 30 years. I have to say that while I was relieved and pleased, I was also a little pissed off that a whole series of doctors and health centre staff had never asked the question that had never occurred to me: do you think there is anything that might be causing this asthma, like a pet? Because now, I am 100% certain that 30 years of discomfort was probably unnecessary.
We had already had cats long before my diagnosis, so why had I suddenly succumbed to an allergy that didn’t appear to exist before? Or was it the type of cat? I don’t think so since we’ve had five cats over the years and while I can’t be sure, I must have been allergic to all of them. And in my case, an assumption was made, repeatedly over the years, that I had a chronic condition when actually I probably had no such thing.
Now, I may live longer, although I have no means of knowing how long that will be. Who knows if I am already into extra time, so to speak, or I may go into extra time from my 99th year onwards? Or will I lose my marbles entirely, in which case those extra years will be all in vain?
I’m still a bit shocked when I climb a flight of stairs and don’t start wheezing at the top. That last happened half a lifetime ago. I am a bit annoyed that it stopped me doing things, like playing cricket even at an old age. I’d get short of breath ambling through for a single and I would bowl off about two paces, rather than my customary dozen.
Still, it’s a bit of unexpected news and I guess I should embrace my new found ability to breath properly after all these years. We’d already decided that we would have no more cats, although I suspect we might have wobbled if we’d seen a particularly sweet kitten. No wobbles now and definitely no more cats. I loved them dearly and still miss them, but I don’t miss laboured breathing.
What a weird thing to happen. Anyone need a spare inhaler? I’ve got a job lot here.
