Breath of life. When you sleep at night, are you afraid of the dark? Ghosts? Someone breaking in? Let me share with you my fear…a fear I have only shared with one or two close friends. Take a deep breath in and then let out. Feels good to most of us. Seems simple even, heck we don’t even have to think about it. In and out like a rhythmatic clock. I thought so too. We often take this gift for granted and I have been guilty of this also. It wasn’t till an accident when I was 19 that I really began to know how much gift breathing is. This accident left me paralyzed from neck down and dependant on a machine to provide air for me. I remember, the sound, cshhhhhhhh, ------------ cshhhhhhhh. The respirator was supplying my every breath. After coming out of a drug-induced sleep, I became conscience of my surrounding in the hospital room. I noticed my chest going up and down and by no effort of my own. Once I began to get used to the rhythm I thought this is easy, not so bad and after a period of time I didn’t even realize anything unnatural. All was good for a few days or so, breathing felt normal almost. Then I began to feel an inner gurgling. This gurgling became annoying, because not only could I hear it, but also I could feel it deep within my chest. Pneumonia had set in and my lungs were beginning to fill with liquid. Being paralyzed and the lack of movement was not allowing my body to naturally release this added moisture building up within me. With the help of a miniature vacuum, some of the fluid was removed in small amounts, however the small vacuum became ineffective, as the fluid build up kept getting worse. As the fluid filled my lungs less oxygen was able to get in my body and I grew weaker. I was then informed that Doctors needed to give me a tracheotomy, cutting a hole in my neck and putting a tube down my throat to my lungs so they could manually remove the fluid build up. I was assured it would be easier for me to breath. After the surgery I awoke with a new feeling, breathing through my neck. The tubes that were down my throat were no longer there and my mouth was free, but not to talk, only to move my lips. Air was not going through my mouth only my neck, so talking was impossible. My respirator was still by my side making its familiar sound. cshhhhhhhh, ------------ cshhhhhhhh. When the machine struggled to give enough oxygen, a nurse was able to put a small tube down the pipe in my neck retrieving any blockage, and this happened several times a day. After several days I began to get some strength back. It was at this time the Doctor decided to turn off my respirator. The respirator was not going to be immediately shut off but slowly reduce the amount of air gradually. This was a big scary as I had forgotten how to breath. Being dependent on this breathing machine for so long I forgot how to breathe on my own. As they turned the machine down I waited for my chest to rise on its own as it had been doing, however my chest didn’t rise and I began to feel like I was suffocating. Panicking for help and fighting for any breath, the seconds felt like minutes. The machine kicked on for a moment, then left me fighting for the next breath of air. Finally some air I thought, and then it stopped. Again panic started in. After doing this several times I began to learn how to move a muscle in my tummy. A muscle I could control that by concentrating I could catch a short breath. That muscle was very weak, as it had not been used for a period of time. Every breath became a fight and struggle. When I grew wearily of trying to breath, my machine would kick on forcing a breath into me and often interrupt my own breathing rhythm that I had been struggling to maintain. This happened for the next few days till I began to breathe on my own. Even though I could breath independently I consciously thought to breath in, release, over and over. I was afraid to fall asleep because I felt I would forget to take that next breath. Forgetting to breathe while sleeping overwhelmed me and I was filled with fear. It took me many days to feel somewhat confident that I could fall asleep and not quit breathing. Twenty-five years later and I confess I still have that fear. I still am scared to fall asleep alone. I struggle not having someone near that I can call out to in an emergency. I still have some deep-rooted fear that I will forget to breathe. I am afraid I won’t wake. Those that see me as so strong I tell you I am still so weak. Even though I breath normally now, I am still fighting, fighting for my next breath. I am thankful when I awake each morning still breathing. It really is a gift to have the breath of life. I ask each of you when you take your first conscience breath in the morning that you remember my story and the challenge I must overcome. Most importantly, realize you just received a gift, the breath of life. You never truly know what a gift it is to breath until you have to fight for that breath. May you be energized, refreshed and inspired. If this has inspired you or if you feel it will inspire others, feel free to share.
Posted on: Fri, 13 Sep 2013 13:30:07 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015