Asthma Control or Stockpile Strategy? A Candid Talk with My Doctor

I sat in the doctor’s office, my legs crossed and arms resting on the armrests of the chair. The small room felt familiar—bright white walls, a faint smell of disinfectant, and the faint hum of the air conditioner. A jar of cotton balls sat on the counter next to the sink, its lid slightly ajar. A box of gloves perched nearby, the kind used for exams I was grateful I didn’t need as an asthmatic.

My doctor sat across from me, reviewing my chart on his laptop. He looked up, his glasses sliding slightly down his nose.
“Well, I think we should adjust your inhalers,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

I leaned forward slightly. “Why?”

He gestured at the screen, then met my eyes. “Because, based on your pharmacy records, you’ve been using a lot of your rescue inhaler lately. If you’re using that much, your asthma isn’t well-controlled.”

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at the floor as I formulated my response. The tiles were spotless, their glossy surface reflecting the fluorescent lights above.

“Oh,” I said finally. “Well, you can’t base how controlled my asthma is just by looking at the prescriptions I fill. I get a new inhaler every month. And it’s not because I’ve run out or urgently need one—it’s because my insurance only lets me get one per month. So, I take full advantage of that. This way, I can stock up on rescue inhalers. I also refill my Albuterol solution every six months to ensure I have a fresh supply when needed. That way, I’m never caught without.”

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Why do you need so many inhalers?”

I shrugged, a small smile creeping onto my face. “I usually only have one at a time. But, well, I’m human. I keep losing them. If I lose the one in my pocket right now, I end up hunting through my house until I find another. Unless it’s that time of the month, and then I just grab a new one. Occasionally, I get lucky and have two on hand at the same time. That’s always a nice surprise.”

He gave me a look that was equal parts bemused and exasperated. I couldn’t help but chuckle as my eyes drifted again to the jar of cotton balls. Life with asthma, I thought, was all about staying one step ahead.