My Story: How Anxiety Impacted My Asthma

I don’t really consider myself an asthma advocate. I’m a blogger at heart. I like to write; I don’t like to talk. A few years ago, I went to Washington D.C. to “advocate” on Capitol Hill. I had to speak with Congressmen to try to convince them to vote for asthma-related bills. And honestly, I hated every moment of it. It was incredibly uncomfortable for me to talk to people in that setting.

Advocating in that way just isn’t for me. Others in the asthma community do it and do it well, but not me. My advocacy comes through my writing. This is my gift. Writing is what I do best, and I will continue to write about asthma until everyone is aware of the disease—or until asthma is no longer a problem.

And I’ll keep doing this, even if I end up repeating myself. Thankfully, even after doing this since 2007, I’ve never truly repeated myself. Somehow, I keep coming up with new ideas for asthma-related topics on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis. It’s because this is my passion. Writing about asthma is what I love. I don’t do videos, and I’ll never return to Washington D.C. as an advocate. That’s simply not my gift.

I want to share something personal with you today, something I’ve never shared before. As a child, I would often suffer from asthma attacks for hours, sometimes days, before I gathered the courage to tell my parents. Can you imagine that? There were times when I could only take in half a breath in my bedroom in the middle of the night. I’d even poke my head out the window, hoping the fresh air would help (and, to be honest, it did help a little).

There were moments when I cried in frustration. But still, I didn’t tell my parents. I wrote about this on my blog several years ago, and one fellow asthma blogger commented: “Why wouldn’t you tell your parents if you were feeling so bad?”

At the time, I didn’t have an answer. I simply replied, “I don’t know.” I still don’t fully understand why I was so afraid to ask for help. My parents were loving and caring, yet I still held back. This wasn’t a one-time thing—it happened many times. I suffered in silence, unsure how to reach out for help.

You might ask, “How did your parents not notice?” Well, it was because of me. I was an expert at pretending. I’d walk by my parents, shoulders down, holding my breath so they couldn’t see how badly I was struggling.

Eventually, I found the courage to wake them up. Every time, they were empathetic, rushing me to the hospital. So, why did I wait so long to tell them? That’s a question I couldn’t answer—until recently.

In 1985, I spent six months at an asthma hospital in Denver, where I was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder. It wasn’t caused by my asthma. It was a completely separate issue. The doctors explained that my anxiety was exacerbating my asthma. They worked with me to help manage my anxiety so I could better manage my asthma and seek help immediately when I needed it.

The thing is, I could speak just fine in comfortable settings. But when I was in an uncomfortable situation—like feeling miserable and needing to wake my parents—I’d freeze. I couldn’t communicate when I felt stressed. This was true at school too. Surrounded by people, I would rarely, if ever, raise my hand to speak with teachers, and my grades suffered as a result.

Looking back, I can see how anxiety and asthma were intertwined. Learning to address my anxiety has been key to managing both. And by sharing my story, I hope others can find the courage to speak up when they need help.

Living with Asthma and Anxiety: A Journey of Growth

I started blogging about my asthma back in 2007. It didn’t take long before I met other people with asthma who were also blogging. We formed a tight-knit group, all sharing our struggles and triumphs. One day, I wrote about a severe asthma attack I had when I was 10, "A Tough Evening In A Smoke Filled Room." I didn’t tell my parents right away, even though I was scared and struggling to breathe. Eventually, I woke them up, and my dad rushed me to the emergency room.

One of my fellow bloggers asked, “Why didn’t you tell your parents sooner?” At the time, I wasn’t sure why. It seems like the obvious thing to do when you’re sick, right? But for me, I didn’t. I replied to my friend, “I don’t know. Sadly, it happened a lot when I was a kid.”

Looking back, it’s a little sad. It’s hard to admit that I had to deal with asthma alone sometimes. Even harder to admit that I was afraid to wake my parents. But looking back, I can also see how much I’ve grown and how much we can learn from experiences like these.

In 1985, I was admitted to an asthma hospital in Denver, Colorado. They treated me for asthma but also recognized something else: anxiety. They told me that my anxiety was making it harder for me to manage my asthma. And that’s when everything started to make sense.

I talked to counselors, psychologists, and even a psychiatrist. The psychologist diagnosed me, and the psychiatrist prescribed me some medication to help with my anxiety. At just 15, I was open to all of it. I wanted to get better, and I wanted to learn how to live my life without fear.

Having both asthma and anxiety wasn’t easy, but over time, I’ve learned how to manage both. Yes, it takes work, but I’ve proven that it’s possible to live a full, healthy life with both conditions. Here’s the thing: managing asthma and managing anxiety go hand in hand. When you focus on controlling one, you’re also helping the other. But it’s not always simple—admitting you need help with anxiety can be a big challenge, especially when it feels irrational.

I was fortunate to be diagnosed and treated early. Not everyone is so lucky. Many people with anxiety never get an official diagnosis, and many don’t seek help. But treatment is possible, whether through relaxation techniques, therapy, or medication. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.

What Is Anxiety?

I’m not a doctor, so I’ll share what anxiety feels like from my own experience. To me, anxiety is about fear, worry, and nervousness. It’s a constant sense of dread, like a weight on your chest. You feel uneasy, even in situations that shouldn’t cause fear.

Two Types of Asthma Anxiety

There are two kinds of anxiety that I’ve personally experienced, and I think they’re both important to recognize.

1. Anxiety Caused by Asthma: This one’s pretty straightforward. When you can’t breathe, you get scared. Everyone with asthma has probably felt this. It’s the panic that sets in when an asthma attack hits, and it’s hard to control the fear of it getting worse. But,  this anxiety can be helpful. It reminds you to get the help you need, whether it’s reaching for your inhaler or calling for help.

2. Anxiety That’s Always There (Not Caused by Asthma): This kind of anxiety is more subtle and harder to recognize. It’s the anxiety you feel all the time, whether or not you’re experiencing an asthma attack. It can be fear of what others think or worrying that you’re bothering someone (like I was afraid of bothering my parents). It’s irrational, and yet, it’s there. This kind of anxiety can be hard to pinpoint, and many people go through life without realizing they have it. But it’s real. And it can be managed.

Finding Strength in Anxiety

The good news is, anxiety doesn’t have to control your life. It’s natural to feel anxious when you’re having trouble breathing, but it doesn’t have to prevent you from seeking help. If you’re a child, you wake up your parents. If you’re an adult, you call your doctor or head to the emergency room. Anxiety can drive you to take action, to do what you need to do to get better.

But anxiety can also be harmful when it stops you from asking for help. When asthma and anxiety combine, it can create a barrier to getting the care you need. That’s why it’s so important to address both asthma and anxiety. Once you acknowledge both, you can start to take control of your health and your life.

Living with asthma and anxiety may be a challenge, but it’s not a life sentence. You can learn to manage both. I’m living proof of that. Through therapy, medication, and learning to manage my asthma, I’ve been able to live a fulfilling life. It takes work, but it’s worth it.

So, if you’re struggling with asthma and anxiety, know that you’re not alone. There’s hope. With the right support, the right tools, and a willingness to ask for help, you can manage both and live your life to the fullest. It’s not always easy, but it’s always possible.

My Dad Introduced us to CHiPs

Some of my fondest childhood memories revolve around TV nights with my family. One such night, a seemingly small decision by my dad forever altered our Saturday night traditions and introduced us to the thrilling world of CHiPs.

It was a typical evening in our home. We kids were sprawled on the floor, lying over the freshly vacuumed, dark carpet. My mom sat behind us in her recliner, perhaps holding one of my younger siblings. Bobby, my older brother, and David, a year younger, were to my right as we gathered around the old 1970s TV. It was one of those big, clunky sets—you could even smell the warm electronics if you sat close enough. We called it the "boob tube," as a playful nod to its bygone nickname.

That night, we were watching Wonder Woman. Mom didn’t care what we watched; she was lost in her own world, enjoying the serenity of being with her boys while holding the baby on her lap. The glow of the TV seemed to reflect her peaceful aura.

Then Dad walked in. “Hey, there’s a really good show on the other channel,” he said, with that authoritative yet curious tone that only dads can pull off. As the commercial break rolled in, he grabbed the dial and switched the channel. “Do you want to check it out?” he asked.

Suddenly, the screen lit up with a high-speed chase, gleaming motorcycles, and the unmistakable swagger of Ponch and Jon from CHiPs. We were transfixed. Within moments, my brothers and I were leaning closer to the screen, our attention fully captured by this adrenaline-pumping, action-packed show.

Dad, sensing our immediate interest, probably couldn’t resist teasing us a little. “Or do you want to go back to that girl show?” he quipped. Without hesitation, and in complete unison, we all shouted something along the lines of, “No way! This is awesome!” From that night forward, we were hooked. I don’t think we ever missed another episode.

Wonder Woman still had its moments when CHiPs wasn’t on, but as fate would have it, Wonder Woman was canceled not long after. Meanwhile, CHiPs lived on, becoming a staple of our family’s Saturday nights. Ponch and Jon, with their camaraderie and daring adventures, felt like extended family members.

Looking back, it wasn’t just the show itself that made CHiPs special; it was the way my dad brought us together, introducing us to something new that we could all enjoy as a family. My favorite part of the show, though, was always the car crashes. Sometimes we waited through the whole show just to watch the big crash at the end of the episode. Or, even better, there was a crash right at the beginning—or the allusion of one coming up. The sight of watching cars tumble and crash and crunch was enjoyable—even though it’s not necessarily something we’d like to endure in reality. But, on TV, it was awesome.

It’s funny how a simple channel change could spark such lasting memories, but that’s the magic of family moments like these. They stay with you forever.

I Started Out As A Journalist

In high school, I attended a career day where I had the opportunity to speak with a respiratory therapist. When I asked about the program requirements, specifically questioning the necessity of taking chemistry, he affirmed that it was a requirement. Given my struggles with chemistry at the time, I made the decision to explore another path. With a passion for writing, I ultimately chose journalism.

My decision to pursue journalism felt somewhat like drawing a ball from a lottery bucket, and the ball I selected had "journalism" written on it. That chance moment guided my college choice and set me on the path of studying journalism.

At this time I wasn't the best student. I loved to learn, but had yet to master the art of making what I learned stick in my head. Actually, what I lacked was organization and self discipline. So I mostly got B's and Cs and the occasional D. And I made it through the 2 year associates's degree program. 

We had a school newspaper called the Torch. And I was a writer for one trimester, and this was where I learned the skill of being a reporter. And, being that I am an introvert and have social anxiety issues, it was difficult for me to motivate myself to get interviews. Plus, since I was naive about the world at this time (after all, I was only 18), sometimes I misunderstood what I was being told in interviews. So, this made it a bit challenging for me as a reporter. 

Despite the initial challenges, I persevered and found my footing. During the first trimester, my roommate assumed the role of editor for the Torch, and I was fortunate enough to be appointed as the assistant editor. Little did I know, this would become the most impactful position in my college career.

As the assistant editor, my responsibilities included meticulously reviewing all articles in the news section, a task that significantly contributed to my growth. Critiquing the work of others allowed me to identify flaws, ultimately enhancing my own writing. This role served as a crucible for improvement.

As I became more acquainted with my colleagues and overcame my initial hesitation in communication, especially over the phone, I gradually became more adept as a reporter. This increased comfort translated into a significant improvement in my writing style. I adopted a concise paragraph structure, a stylistic choice that would later carry over into my blog posts.

Although working as a journalist on a college campus presented its challenges, I am grateful for the experience. It not only equipped me with valuable skills but also played a pivotal role in shaping the writing techniques I now employ in my current endeavors.

Asthma Induced Anxiety Versus Anxiety Induced Asthma

An important topic I wanted to discuss is the different ways anxiety and asthma can co-exists. Allow me to break it down this way. 

1. Asthma Induced Anxiety. You typically do not experience anxiety. However, when you get short of breath this causes you to experience anxiety. You get stressed, worry, and maybe even panic due to the feeling you can't catch your breath. 
2. Anxiety Induced Asthma. You have anxiety that you experience on a daily basis. And this causes you to worry or fear things, perhaps irrationally. For example, you forget to take your medications therefore your asthma gets worse. Or, you experience your early warning symptoms of asthma and worry about what others will think, so you fail to seek help when you need to. 

Why did I not seek help for asthma as a kid?

Lately, I've been more open about my experiences with anxiety. I recognize that I'm not alone in facing the challenge of both asthma and anxiety, and by sharing my story, I hope to kickstart important conversations on this topic. Given that I've been transparent about my asthma for several years, it feels natural to extend that openness to my experiences with anxiety as well.

Several years ago I wrote about my "tough experience in a smoke filled room." And I wrote other similar stories about how I would suffer with asthma for hours, and sometimes days, before breaking down and telling my parents. And the'd rush me to the emergency room, where they'd have me breathing easy after shots of epinephrine and steroids. 

And, in response to one of these articles, one of my fellow asthma bloggers wrote something to the effect of, "What? How could you feel so miserable and not tell your parents? And how could your parents not recognize that their son was feeling so miserable?" 

At the time, my response was a simple," I don't know. I guess I just didn't want to bother my parent." 

Today, however, I seem to have a better understanding of why I failed to tell my parents. I admit now that I have anxiety. And that anxiety made me very self conscious and afraid to approach adults. And today I am aware that I have a specific type of anxiety called social anxiety disorder, perhaps even selective mutism. And this makes it so that, you feel so uncomfortable in certain situations that you do not talk. And this would explain why I never sought help even though I knew I should. 

How Has Anxiety Impacted My Life

As I noted in this post here, I was diagnosed with anxiety at a young age. This was back in the 1980s when I spent six months at an asthma hospital. Back then, my counselors and psychologists did not specify what type of anxiety I had. And this is because such specificity about anxiety did not exist. However, they were able to determine that my anxiety probably was effecting my asthma. 

How did anxiety impact my asthma? Before being admitted to the asthma hospital, I often experienced asthma symptoms. However, instead of seeking help, I would try to manage it independently. My anxiety played a significant role in this decision—I worried about burdening my parents and feared potential judgment from doctors regarding my frequent use of the rescue inhaler. Due to these concerns and others, I hesitated to involve adults in my care. Unfortunately, this anxiety-driven reluctance to seek assistance led to inadequate self-care, allowing my asthma to worsen.

Back then and for many years thereafter, I vehemently denied having anxiety. I was even irritated that the specialists caring for me would suggest it while I adamantly declared, 'I don't have anxiety, I have asthma.' Despite my resistance, they skillfully addressed my anxiety, emphasizing the importance of seeking help promptly when experiencing symptoms rather than attempting to handle it alone.

Repeatedly, they emphasized the crucial message that seeking help promptly and addressing asthma episodes early on was the most effective strategy for gaining better control. Additionally, they underscored the significance of consistent use of my asthma controller medicines—emphasizing the importance of taking them daily and avoiding forgetting or skipping doses.

Furthermore, they provided thorough education on all of my medications, plus education about proper inhaler and nebulizer usage. And these efforts, ensured that my technique with these devices was stellar to guarantee I was receiving the correct dose of my respiratory medications. To help me control the anxiety itself they prescribed for me a medication called Xanax. 

All these measures did seem to help me obtain better asthma control despite my anxiety and my asthma. And, in return, these allowed me to enjoy a much better quality of life once I was discharged from the asthma hospital in July of 1985. I somehow managed to keep my asthma well controlled for the next several years. And I managed to keep myself out of the emergency room for the next six years. And this was a HUGE improvement from the years prior to my stay at the asthma hospital. 

Get Your Anxiety Treated! You Deserve It!

If you're grappling with anxiety, it's crucial to seek treatment. Do you find yourself worrying excessively, losing sleep over racing thoughts, altering plans due to nerves, or using substances to cope in social situations? If you identify with one or more of these experiences, you may be dealing with anxiety. The good news is that you don't have to face it alone any longer.

I understand the challenges of living with anxiety firsthand. There were three reasons I didn't seek treatment for many years. First, anxiety is often misunderstood by medical professionals, leading to overlooked diagnoses. Second, there's a pervasive tendency to deny the existence of anxiety, even when it's evident. I personally denied having anxiety for decades, despite being told by social workers, psychologists, and a psychiatrist at the asthma hospital back in the 1980s that I had it. Their intention was to help me accept it and find treatment, but I resisted until recently. And a third reason is the social stigma about brain disorders. For example, when I became convinced I had anxiety, I talked to my brother about it. And I talked to him about the prospect of taking medicine for it. And he said, "You don't want to take psyche drugs, they mess with your head." Little did he know that not taking psyche meds is what messes what your head, not taking them. The psyche meds prevent this, or at least make it better, allowing you to have a better quality of life. 

The hurdle then becomes how to seek anxiety treatment when you're grappling with anxiety itself. I, for instance, have a form of anxiety known as social anxiety disorder. Being around people triggers intense nervousness, making me feel profoundly uncomfortable, especially in familiar company. The pressure to engage in conversations heightens this discomfort, leading me to either say things I feel are foolish or withdraw into silence. My son appears to experience similar challenges and has been undergoing counseling. During one session, his counselor mentioned "Selective Mutism," a term that seemed to describe not only my son but also myself.

Learning about Selective Mutism and its treatment options was eye-opening. My son was prescribed Prozac, one of the few medications studied in children, and over time, we've seen substantial improvements in his anxiety levels. He's become more relaxed, although there's still a long road ahead. This prospect of progress is what sent shivers down my spine, as it means he'll receive the help I didn't get.

Through my research into this condition, I've gained extensive knowledge about anxiety and its treatment. While I've developed my own strategies for managing it as an adult—sometimes involving quietude and, at other times, avoidance—I still grapple with anxiety. Why do I persist? How different would my life be without the limitations imposed by anxiety? With these questions in mind, I mustered the courage to talk to my doctor.

The irony of discussing anxiety with a doctor when you have anxiety is not lost on me. Many times, I've wanted to broach the subject but couldn't find the courage. That, in itself, is a sign of anxiety. Perhaps my doctor recognized it because without hesitation, he prescribed a medication called Celexa. Will it work? Only time will tell.

And here's another thought. the cartoon I use on this post is not truly accurate. A person like me, who has has developed coping strategies, will not look like this character -- he or she would look calm and cool. If you saw me and I was experiencing anxiety, I would look totally fine. And that's part of the problem. And it reminds me of a meme: "It's not anxiety that I am faking, it's looking fine that I'm faking." 

Respiratory Karma, or the case of spilled water

So I'm walking down the hallway with a nice hot cup of coffee. Now I'm ready to tackle the night shift, my one 12 hour night shift per week. It's one of those areas of the hospital that sees little traffic after hours.  I'm walking down this hall and I hear the sound of a door squeaking behind me, and as I turn to see who it is some of my coffee spills.

I think to myself: I better clean this up before someone slips and falls.  Yet I'm also thinking: I will probably forget, because I know myself.  Then thoughts of being paged to the emergency room for a conscious sedation on one of my coworkers who slipped and fell on that spot roll around in my gray matter.

Then I think: These are the voices of my conscience, something every Catholic has.

So I decide I better grab a towel and get back down there to clean it up.  But I forgot.

Several hours pass.  I decide I need a cup of coffee.  On the way down that same hallway my shoes start to squeak.  This was when I realized what I forgot to do.  I did not fall, thankfully.  But my point is that the person my own conscience tried to save was myself.  Go figure.

But I suppose this lesson also shows how good the new flooring is at preventing falls. Yes, that is the moral to be learned here.  Scientists have done a wonderful job of creating non-slip flooring, and it was well worth the money the hospital spent on it.

30 years ago: I spent 6 months in an asthma hospital

Thirty years ago on January 8 I traveled with my mom on a three hour United flight from Manistee, Michigan, to Denver, Colorado.  The mission was to take me to the asthma hospital.  An edited version of my story was published at healthcentral.com/asthma today.  Here is the unedited version.

On January 9, 1985, I was admitted to National Jewish Hospital/ National Asthma Center (NJH/NAC). This was where the best asthma experts in the world worked at that time, and they were supposed to finally get my asthma controlled. I was 15-years-old.

To put in in perspective how bad my asthma had become, I made eleven emergency room visits for asthma in 1984, and was admitted to the hospital four times. This does not include the many unscheduled visits to Dr. Oliver’s office. It does not include the days I couldn't breathe and just dealt with it by puffing on my inhaler until it was empty.

My doctors and parents feared for my life. I, on the other hand, did not worry about it. I had lived with the asthma beast my entire life, so to me it was just another minor detail of life to be dealt with.

I was such a mess that doctor Oliver, and all the other doctors who took care of me, were at a loss what to do. So doctor Oliver and my parents made the difficult decision to have me admitted to NJH/NAC.

While I took my asthma in stride, Dr. Oliver told my parents that they were going to teach me a whole new way of life.

The morning I walked with my mom onto the campus my lips were blue. I met my counselor in the business office, and he immediately walked me up to 7-Goodman, where kids ages 13-18 were housed. This would be my new home.

When the nurses saw me they immediately said, “This boy is a Code Blue!”

“Oh, I’m fine,” I said.

“No you are not,” said the nurse. “You are really bad.”

They made me sit in a chair next to a nebulizer, and they made me take a breathing treatment. Then they called Dr. Mitchell, who assessed me right away, and ordered more medicine to help me breathe better.

The asthma experts had a major challenge on their hands, but they had seen it in nearly all of the 20 kids already admitted to the unit. The beast that is asthma gripped my lungs, and it affected my head as well as my lungs.

Dr. Mitchell saw me every day, and the nurses watched me closely. For the first two weeks one test after another was performed on me. I was poked and prodded more than ever before or since. I blew into spirometers until I felt like a rat in a lab.

But then it got better. Once the initial testing was done, and once my asthma was under control, the asthma hospital was more like a home than a hospital. In fact, the only thing that made it like a hospital is that the nurses and doctors wore stethoscopes.

I met the other kids, and they all had asthma just like me. We shared our stories. We went to school during weekdays. In the evenings we played games or watched movies. On the weekends we went on field trips to malls and museums and amusement parks. On one field trip we visited an old gold mining town, and on another we hiked trails in the Rocky Mountains.

Most important, we had fun like normal kids.

But we also learned about our disease. We learned about asthma causes and triggers. We learned everything doctors knew about asthma medicine. We learned about asthma action plans, about asthma triggers, and about early warning signs. We learned how to prevent and treat asthma.

Bad asthma kept us from learning some of the skills that healthy kids learn. So we saw counselors, psychologists, occupational therapists and physical therapists. Their goal was to help us cope with the world when we return home with controlled asthma.

Another very important thing inculcated into our heads was the importance of eating healthy and exercising. A good diet gives you the nutrients you need, and exercise makes your heart and lungs strong so can breathe easy.

So every weekday we walked to the gym or pool and participated in some sort of aerobic activity. When that was done we played games, such as basketball or dodge ball or open swim.

Yet every day I saw Dr. Mitchell, and she tweaked my medicine ever so slightly until I was on the perfect medicine regime for controlling and treating my own asthma.

It took a long time to fix me. While I was told it would be about 6-8 weeks, I was discharged on July 14, 1985. I was admitted for six months.

Asthma hospitals first started popping up in the 1930s. The one in Denver started as a tuberculosis hospital in the late 19th century, only to be converted to an asthma hospital. It was a great idea for it's time, especially when regional physicians were unable to help their asthmatic patients.

Back in 1985 regional physicians, like Dr. Oliver, did not have access to the same asthma wisdom the asthma experts at NJH/NAC had. This is what made such hospitals so important to helping asthmatic kids become normal again.

Yet it was also about this time that efforts were being made to educate regional physicians on how to help their asthmatic kids. By 1992 they were so much better equipped that the asthma hospital closed that inpatient children's ward.

So no longer does 7-Goodman exist. However, the asthma hospital still exists. Today it is called National Jewish Hospital, and they still have a really nice children's outpatient program for those who need the help.

On January 8, 1985, I needed their help and they succeeded at helping me to become a normal person. My experience there was a very unique one, and the lessons I learned have benefited me in a big way. It's hard to believe that was thirty years ago.

No political correctness on the RT Cave

In honor of this being the 7th birthday celebration of the Respiratory Therapy Cave, a respiratory therapy student recently asked me some questions, and requested I share them here.  So, here we go!!!

So how long have you been a part of the respiratory therapy cave and what is your involvement with it?  I started this website on October 13, 1997, and I am a regular writer.

What qualifies you to do this? I'm a registered respiratory therapist working full time since 1997.

Do you have any other writing jobs?  I presently also work for healthcentral.com/asthma as an asthma and COPD expert.  I usually write about two posts on each subject each month.

Do you have a writing degree?  Have you ever had any other writing jobs? Have you ever had your writing in print? I have an associates in journalism from Ferris State University.  I learned a lot about writing, although that career path never really interested me after I graduated.  I also have a degree in advertising, which I think helps me to keep my writing pithy.  I have had my blogposts published in the online versions of various newspapers around the nation, including the Chicago Tribune.  I was also a writer for answers.com for a while, although I wrote so much they couldn't afford to pay me.

How has your writing improved over the years?  My writing is more pithy now.

Do you get paid to do the RT Cave?  If not, would you like to? No.  I do not want to get paid to do this.  This is my hobby.  If I started doing this for the money it would become a job, and it would become something I would have to do instead of something I choose to do.  Plus, not being in it for the money makes it so I can say whatever I want, even what is politically incorrect.

But you do have Adsense on your blog, don't you?  You get paid for that? Not enough to make this a career.  Usually that money is enough to pay for a couple evenings out with my wife each month.  It's usually not much, and it's inconsistent money.  It's essentially just enough money to keep this blog going.

What is your favorite part of blogging? Why do you do it?  The answer to both questions is because I love to write and I like to educate, and I think blogging provides me an opportunity to do both.  I love writing for the RT Cave because I don't have to be politically correct, and I have no editor to tell me otherwise. I like that I don't have to say certain things, or write in certain ways, so that I don't offend certain readers.  I can actually tell my readers what I actually think, as opposed to what they want to hear.

What do you mean? When I began my writing career in the late 1980s, we were able to write the truth, write in a style we were comfortable with, and not worry about offending people. That all kind of changed over the years as writers have sort of been forced to write in a manor that doesn't offend.  Here all gloves are off. I think that's one of the reasons people turn to the blogosphere, because here we can give honest answers.  Writing outside the blogosphere, when answering a medical question, I might have to justify it by saying something like: "You should talk to your doctor." I think that's poppycock, mainly because, in some instances, a nurse or a respiratory therapist may be more knowledgeable than a doctor.  In many cases respiratory therapy is beyond the scope of a physician's knowledge.  And I'm not the first person to say that either, as you will find credible physicians saying the same thing as you read my history of difficult breathing. The blogosphere is great in that it allows real people like me to say what we mean and mean what we say.

Do you worry about saying something that might cause you to lose your job? Not really, mainly because I do not write about my place of employment and I do not write about my patients.  All RT Cave writers are instructed to write in generalizations and to stick to the facts.  For example, we are not to write about how albuterol affects a specific pneumonia patient, but how albuterol affects the pneumonia patient population.

But you have to be careful.  Absolutely.  There is definitely a line that cannot be crossed.  I have some writers who have noted fear that what they published might be taken the wrong way, and in such instances I encourage them to either not publish it or delete it if already published.

Do you have advice for other RT bloggers?  One of my top writers likes to say, "Write about the profession and not the individual."  Stick to that when blogging and you'll stay out of trouble.  Be honest, but be safe.

What is your worse part of blogging?  I'm just happy to have the opportunity to write. There really are no negatives to writing for the RT Cave.

Well, I hate to use this term, but do you have a pet peeves then?  I would never do this on the RT Cave, but I hate it when I'm writing elsewhere and I find myself writing cliches like "you can live a normal life with asthma and allergies if you are a gallant asthmatic."  I find that to be totally bogus.

Before I go any further, you are an asthmatic, right?  That would be correct.

And you have an asthma blog too, right?  That would be correct.  I created the blog hardluck asthma.

So you are a credible asthma expert then?  I would say so, by default anyway.  I have lived this disease in more ways than one.

What do you mean by that?  Well, I was diagnosed in 1972, I do not remember any part of my life where it has not affected me. Between 1976 and 1985 I had many asthma attacks, so many in fact that I sometimes would not tell my parents and would needlessly suffer.  By 1984 I was making unscheduled doctor visits on a regular basis, and made eleven trips to the emergency room that year.  I was admitted four times.  In 1985 I spent 6 months at National Jewish Hospital/ National Asthma Center, so, along with my RT experience, that sort of qualifies me as an asthma expert by default.   So asthma has affected every aspect of my life.

Okay, so we can't argue with the fact you are a credible asthma expert.  So, why can't you live a normal life with asthma?  Well, you can live a relatively normal life.  However, most asthmatics are forced to take medicine every day, which is not normal.  Most asthmatics are forced to avoid asthma triggers, which is not normal. Many asthmatics have to avoid certain jobs, which is not normal. Surely we try to be as normal as we can, but when we forget we have asthma and get overly ambitious, we too frequently get into trouble.  And every thing I just said also applies to people with allergies too.  Considering 75% of asthmatics also have allergies, that's a double whammy there.  I would also have to add that COPD patients cannot live a normal life either.

Do you write a lot about COPD:  I have written quite a bit on this blog, and so have other writers, although I started in February of this year as a COPD expert at healthcentral.com/COPD, and so I have been writing a lot about it over there.

How long will you be doing this? I will end this website when no doctor ever orders a breathing treatment that isn't needed.  I will end this site when no asthmatic and no allergic person suffers.  I will end this when there is a cure for difficult breathing.

RT Cave Facebook Page
RT Cave on Twitter

This is who I am to a tee

Here's my personality to a tee:

Peaceful Phlegmatic:  The watcher:

• Easy Going:  I got written up once for being too relaxed at a code
• Quiet:  I speak only when there's something worth saying (although I do fail on occasion)
• Comfortable clothing: Large and loose.  Comfort comes before looks.
• Light on their feet:  Never wear coats, boots, pads, etc.  
• Blends in:  Humble, and don't like being in the spotlight
• Steady worker: I get my work done and do it well (yet I do cut corners)
• Flexible:  I don't care when I work, and am more than eager to come in when called.  

Strengths:

• Steady:  Keep going forward
• Reliable:  Will get it done in a timely manner
• Consistent:  Will do it the same every time 
• Curious: Always thinking and looking for new answers
• Observant: They look, they see, but they do not speak
• Empathetic: They care about people's feelings
• Good listener:  I'm all ears. Would rather listen to you than hear me.
• Calm:  Again, I've been written up for being too calm.
• Witty:  I'm pretty much as my blog might indicate.
• Kind:  Easy to get along with
• Has few enemies: I even get along with the arrogant and condescending
• Low Key: Humble

Weaknesses:

• Dislikes change:  Hate it.  I just want to keep things the way they are.  I'm very conservative.
• Uninvolved:  I come up with ideas, but it's up to others to sell them.  
• Avoids conflict at all costs: Conflict to me is trying to keep all the people in my life happy.  Sometimes I can't keep both my boss happy at the same time as my wife, because one wants me to work, and the other wants me to be home with the kids.
• Super stubborn when pushed:  Very much so.  I hate stupidity.
• Hard to get moving: Yes, I put relaxation, sleep and recharging before doing things that are monotonous, like frivolous breathing treatments, cleaning up after the kids, etc. I am very hard to get motivated.  Although, once I act, I do a great job. Funny thing is, when I attend meetings I generally vote not to change anything. 

Emotional needs:

• Peace and quiet:  I sacrifice sleep every morning and get up at 5 a.m. so that I can get my 2 hours of peace and quiet.  This is my recharge time.  
• Feelings of worth:  I just want people to show that they respect me.
• Lack of stress:  I say all the time I hate stress.  If any change is going to amount to any degree of stress, than I am all against it.  
• Sleep:  Most people like me are teased because we are seen as big sleepers.  I do not sleep well, but I must get plenty of it in order to prevent stress.
• Respect for who they are:  I expect this a lot.  Generally, any conflict in my life resolves around this.  

Truly, there's not much else to say about me.  However, you'd have to add that I'm a thinker, creative, and I like to be organized (although not at the expense of relaxation).  These other traits, however, come from my secondary personality: melancholy. Melancholy people tend to be creative and thinkers. 

I cannot change who I am.  I think the most difficult thing for any young person is learning who they are, and then accepting who they are.  This is me.  Respect it.

Recommended read: Personality Plus by Florence Littauer

RT Cave Facebook Page
Rick Frea's Facebook
RT Cave on Twitter

Can you do an EKG faster than me?

I can do EKGs faster than anyone in the world, and I can do them better than anyone.  I can do in two minutes what most EKG techs can do in five or ten.  I can do a breathing treatment more efficiently than any one else too.  I have no idea why it would take ten minutes to do a breathing treatment when it only takes me five, unless I get involved in a good conversation that is.  And I should be good at it considering I've been an RT 15 years and I have had nebulzers at my home for 30.  I'm just good at doing breathing treatments.  Fast and efficient, I am. 

Now I'm not writing this to be arrogant and egotistical, I'm writing this to make a point.  I want to make an absurd point by being absurd.  So I am faster than anyone at doing EKGs and breathing treatments.  I'm just that good.  So that means I get my work done faster than your average Joe.  That means I have more time to play.  And I do play.  I go on the Internet in my free time and I blog, or I read the news or sports online.  That's what I enjoy doing.  That's what I do to keep my morale up. And if my boss doesn't like it... well, we just won't tell my boss. 

Actually, my boss knows I do this.  

What personality does Rick Frea have?

Your question:  I've been reading your blog for over two years now, and you rarely write about yourself. So could you describe your personality?

My answer:  I would say that I'm a peaceful phlegmatic with a touch of melancholy.  I say peaceful phlegmatic because I'm very laid back, dress lightly, and am easy to get along with.  I say melancholy because I'm an artist and I'm always thinking.  Plus when I took the Personality Plus test these were my two leading personality types:  Peaceful Phlegmatic and Melancholy. 

By melancholy I don't mean depressed either.  Florence Litnaur, who wrote the above named book, notes that most of your creative people are melancholies.  So I'd have to say that considering I'm a writer, and a thinker, I'm therefore a melancholy by her definition. 

Mostly, though, I'm phlegmatic.  I generally have a spirit of equanimity about me.  That means I'm calm even in the most stressful situations.  Sometimes people ask me how I can stay so calm in the face of adversity.  The answer, generally, that I give is that I think I know what I'm doing.  I also know that when I'm stressed I don't think well, so it makes more sense to stay calm. 

I actually was written up once for being too relaxed at a code.  In response to the write up I wrote:  "What do you want, for me to run to the code and arrive with a heart rate of 133 and my hair askew?"  Yes, I also have a dry sense of humor tantamount to what I write on this blog.  I'm simple too.  I'm a very simple person.  I'm pithy, like my writing. 

What other careers would I do?

Once a person does a certain job for so long forces begin to pull at the neurons of your mind, pulling your thoughts in various directions.  For example:

1.  Boredom; monotony, sameness, redundancy
2.  God!  I love my job
3.  It would be nice to experience something new
4.  I have no other skills, so I'm content

I think the factory job would cause monotony, and the only person I think who'd truly LOVE their work are those who get to play games for a living, such as Prince Fielder and Miguel Cabrerra.  Yet there are many of us who convince ourselves how much we love our jobs.

So I'll say it:  I love my job. Man it feels good to say it.  I love my job... in theory.  If I could do the job I was trained to do in RT school I'd be the happiest man in the U.S.  I'd be totally content with my life.

1. Computer programer
2. Webpage designer
3. Writer.
4. Advertising Copy writer (I'd love to write TV Commercials, and I'm educated to do it too.  Yet it's a highly competitive field, and you have to care a lot about how you look, and wear suits too.  So I was told by a teacher once I'd never fit in.  However, I was also told by one of my RT teachers I'd never be a good RT either, and look at me now. 

Anyway, if I ever decided to quit this, or if I ever got ambitious, I'm sure there's options out there for me.  I guess I am a writer, sort of. Chances are, though, I'll be stuck under the respiratory umbrella until I retired when I'm (ahem) 58.

The priorities in my life

Being it's the holiday season and all, I've decided to take a time out here to write a little about my self.  Here's your chance to get to know me if you don't already.

God:  I fear him, and for good reason.

Wife:  I fear her, and for good reason.  She is the most special person in my life, my best friend, and the reason I am what I am today.  Seriously, I could not do this without her.

Kids:  They give me purpose and make sure I look at the grander picture as opposed to what's right before my eyes.  I find my kids absorb a majority of my non-working time.  And, for the record, I have one kid in each age group:  one teenager (14), one adolescent (9), one toddler (4) and one baby (2).  So if I seem distant or invisible at times, just think of how many practices and events I attend with my older kids, and catering to the needs of my younger kids.  Parenting is a lot of work, although it's very rewarding.  Still, it provides little time for the things down on this list.

Work:  I'm a respiratory therapist and I love my job and the people I work with.  Surely there are flaws in this profession, but it does allow me time to do this and to meet some wonderful people.  So I am thankful for that.  Plus it's a good job for an asthmatic, of which I am.

Other people:

• Friends:  I'm not really a social person.  I do not like crowds, even if it's all family members.  Yet if you invite me out to dinner I'll probably accept.  
• Fellow bloggers:  It's amazing how many people I've met on the Internet who've become my good friends.  I do have to admit I haven't given you guys as much attention as I'd like to due to the other priorities listed above -- i.e. kids.  

Other things:  

• Country:  I love being a U.S. Citizen.  I love the document that makes it all possible, and I believe the principles that established it are rock solid, not ever changing.  Principles do not change, and people should remember that.  I wish more people would take note of that.  
• Exercise:  There is not excuse for not finding time for this.  It is the string that makes everything else in your life work.  When it's not done, things just don't work as well.  
• Respiratory Therapy Cave:  It allows me a place to organize my thoughts about the profession I'm wrapped in.  My blogs are really the only things in my life I have complete control of. 
• Hardluck Asthma:  It allows me a place to organize my thoughts about the disease I'm wrapped in.  
• Baseball:  Justin Verlander, Cabrerra, Prince -- nuff said.
• Politics:  It amazes me how many people don't care.  I do.  
• Beer:  Peace; relaxation

You may have noticed I've placed all the above in order of priority.

I am a voice, not an activist

A random person just emailed me with the following quote that I publish here with permission:

Rick, you are to respiratory therapy what Rush Limbaugh is to Conservatism.

 I never really thought of it that way, but it's probably true.  I don't tell people what to think or how to think.  Little of what I write is something my readers haven't already thought of before.  I simply am a voice saying what my readers already know and believe yet don't hear or read anywhere else. I articulate ideas and give other respiratory therapists the means to to the same.  

So there's really nothing new here.  And in order to articulate, in order to draw people to my blog, I simply take what other people have written and write about that.  I often use what other people have said or written, mostly what doctors say to me, and write about it.  I'm entertaining.  I'm an entertainer.  I use irreverent humor to articulate what you already know or thought. 

I don't think of myself as a leader.  I do not think of myself as an activist. 

Speaking of activist, you'd be amazed how many people email me with things such as, "Considering you're an activist in the field of respiratory therapy, I would like you to participate in such and such." 

I used to write them back with something like:  "I really appreciate, with all due respect, the offer.  However, I do not consider myself an activist: I am a writer.  I create ideas; I share ideas, I do not act on them."

What is my biggest weakness?

RT Question:  You give a lot of advice on your blog.  I'd like to know what YOUR biggest weakness is as a respiratory therapist.  Do you have any?  I bet you don't.

My humble answer:  I have weaknesses up the ying yang.  I think my biggest weakness doesn't have anything to do with patient care, and has nothing to do with communication, or coworkers, or doctors, or anything like that.  My biggest weakness is filing EKGs.  Can you imagine that?  One of the main reasons I didn't become a secretary is because I am a poor organizer, and in my filing of EKGs it surely shows.  I'd say about 95% of the complaints and variances about me have been regarding the filing of EKGs. I did not become a secretary for a reason, I became a respiratory therapist.  Perhaps it's for this reason I have utter respect for secretaries.

The end of the RT Cave?

I used to hate it when a favorite TV show of mine ended.  I never understood why someone would end something as popular as Cheers, Family Ties, Married with Children or Seinfeld.  I didn't understand comments such as made by Jerry Seinfeld:  "TV shows are only good for five years."

It wasn't until "Everyone Loves Raymond" ended and Raymond said, "Now I can devote my energy to other things.  The past several years all my creative energy has been absorbed by this show."  I'm paraphrasing these quotes here, but you get the point.

What also helped me to understand the ending of good things was my blog Respiratory Therapy Cave.  When I started it I wondered if I could do this every day, and now it's been five years and I'm still doing it.  There are days I think I've covered everything and there's no place else to go.  There's days I want to channel my energy into other projects.  There are days, weeks and even months when I do.  Yet the RT Cave has lived on.  It is now five years old.

The question then becomes:  Do I continue?  Do I go on? Is it time to retire the RT Cave?  Yet here I am, pondering to do something I hated others doing: ending something popular; ending something at the peek of it's reign.  Yes, today is the 5 year anniversary of the Respiratory Therapy Cave.

The executives of Freeadom enterprises have encouraged me to continue.  And in reviewing the many positive emails and comments I've received from people like you I've decided I must go on at least for another year.  So you can thank you for me signing a one year contract with myself to write another year.

I'm going to keep the layout of the website the same, although the posts are going to pour forth a bit differently.  The schedule beginning in 2013 will look something like this:

• Monday:  Respiratory History
• Tuesday:  Asthma
• Wednesday:  Respiratory Therapy
• Thursday:  Respiratory diseases
• Friday:   Your questions
• Saturday:  Humor and fun
• Sunday:  Philosophy

Other than that the RT Cave will continue to specialize in sharing facts, opinion, satire, irreverent humor, and interesting stories in respiratory therapy.  

Things my patients like about me

The following are things I often get complimented on by my patients:

1. Remove glasses before putting mask over face
2. Keep women covered during EKG
3. Remove cup prior to shaking mask (so their whole face doesn't shake)
4. Friendly
5. Sociable
6. Good conversation
7. Love to discuss the Bible
8. Love to discuss Politics (even with people I don't necessarily agree with)
9. Positive demeanor
10. Relaxed
11. Pull up a chair next to the bed and put it away when I'm done
12. Great at explaining things
13. Make patient feel good about themselves
14. Go out of my way to make sure patients has everything he needs (blankets, ice water, etc.)
15. Get things right away for patients instead of making them wait
16. Check up on patients between treatments, sometimes just for a chat
17. I make them breathe better
18. I make ABGs a gentle explerience