Eeks Speakeasy: The Long Whatever

What is The Long Whatever?

Good question.

It involves an asthma attack, a pet store, a nice guy afraid to help, a bathroom code, an emotionally fragile dog, ambulance rides, and several thoughts that probably should've stayed inside my head.

But here we are.

By the end of this episode, I promise you'll know what The Long Whatever Is. 

DISCLAIMER: Eeks Speakeasy is part storytelling, part health discussion, and part one public health nerd failing to make sense of the world. Nothing here is health or medical advice. It's just Eeks thinking out loud. 

Work with me? Perhaps we are a good match. 

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Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Welcome to the Causes or Cures Podcast, your gateway to understanding health and groundbreaking medical research in a fun and easy to understand way. With Dr. Eeks as your host, join us as we sit down with the world's leading doctors and scientists to unravel the mysteries of health. From practical tips on well-being to the latest breakthroughs in medical research, we cover it all. Don't forget to subscribe. Now, let's ignite our curiosity and together dive into today's episode.

SPEAKER_01 0:31

Hi everyone, and welcome to the Eek Speak Easy portion of Causes or Cures. This is a new segment I added, which is really just me shooting the shit on a topic related to health. Today's topic is my lungs in their version of for who the world turns, because they don't always turn for me. So I have asthma. Some of you already know that. It developed after a weird lung infection I got in medical school. And I don't know what the infection was because I never went to the doctor for it. Yeah. Which sounds irresponsible. Yeah, I know. But honestly, that's kind of how I was raised, right? Like nobody in my family goes to the doctor unless you absolutely have to. I know. I know it's bad. But you know, it's like there's this threshold that you're supposed to hit, the familial threshold, and you know, you're basically one step to the morgue, and then you might go. It's so bad at one point my parents, now my dad's a veterinarian, my mom helps at the clinic a lot, and they're all into animal rescue. We all are, our whole family. We've been doing animal rescue since I was a kid. I do it as an adult. But anyhow, not too long ago, they were bottle feeding a kitten that they rescued. Adorable, cute as a button. And unfortunately, the kitten died. Later tested positive for rabies, which was surprising to everyone because it was a very calm little kitten. And, you know, I was like, okay, rabies, well, you guys better get your shots. And, you know, they didn't seem like super motivated, they weren't panicked, they weren't anxious. I was like, this is, you know, guys, it's rabies, it's rabies, it's not a paper cut. So I remember calling home, like, look, guys, as entertaining as it would be to write your obituaries as died together, foaming at the mouth, because of procrastination, resistance to mainstream society, and needing to pick up coleslaw before the deli closed. You guys should go get your shots. And they eventually did, and they didn't get rabies. And you know, that's just something, guys, you just don't fuck around with. You don't mess with rabies, like you gotta go get your shots. You do. Just gotta go get your shots. So honestly, I had mysterious long haul lung trauma before long haul conditions were trendy. People talk about long COVID now as if long lingering post-infectious weirdness only started after COVID. Nope, nope, nope. Probably happens with a lot of viruses, you know. COVID just got the spotlight, man, and the PR. Everyone was talking about long COVID. But yeah, since nobody ever figured out what my infection actually was, because I didn't go to the doctor, I like to call mine long whatever. Long whatever. Now my asthma triggers are kind of dramatic. Extreme heat, extreme cold, crying too hard, laughing too hard. Basically, my lungs oppose intensity, so I like to I like to keep it in the middle. I don't like to fight too much, I don't like to fall in love, you know. I gotta just keep it flat, keep it in the middle for the lungs. And I manage my asthma with what I describe on my website as conventional medicine and quackery. Yeah, which is only partially a joke. I mean, it might not be a joke at all, actually. I carry my prescribed rescue inhaler everywhere, you know, God bless conventional medicine in that regard. I try to carry it everywhere. And then there's the rest, you know, like the deep breathing exercises. Oh, I gargle with salt water every morning. It's a total anecdote, uh, but it seems to help me. I just I do it. I get up and I gargle with salt water. It's my routine. I do a lot of martial arts, I do martial arts breathing. I do bouteco breathing. I don't know if I said that right. I could say like a buteco, uh, but look it up. I mean, there's some evidence for it when it comes to asthma, but it's not like something you want to, you know, use and throw away your asthma meds. That would be dumb. But, you know, you can read about it. Then I've tried acupuncture, massage therapy, exercise, of course. I have an acupressure mat, it's a literal bed of nails. I honestly don't know if it helps or if I just like to torture myself, but I do, I do like the nails. And I drink black coffee before workouts, and there is some evidence for that because caffeine can act as a mild bronchodilator. Yeah, so I am a fan of black coffee. So, like public health and medical people listening right now are either nodding thoughtfully or preparing to write a bad review or a bad email, like, don't say that on your podcast. I'm like, no, this is just what I do. You gotta listen to your doctors and you know, do that. But now this is interesting. One thing I've noticed over the years, completely anecdotally, is that my asthma gets worse around my period. Many times. I'm not gonna say every time, but I'm gonna say many times. And that's the main time I need to be extra careful. There's a term for that in the literature, in the literature. It's called perimenstrual asthma or PMA. I'm sure you're gonna use that acronym a lot. PMA. And they don't know exactly what causes it. You know, like they don't know what causes a lot of things, but just that the sex hormones are linked to immune cells and the body's inflammatory response. You know, everything's connected, so it's too complicated to figure out like what the one cause is. But otherwise, today, right now, my asthma really doesn't bother me too much anymore. And sure, I've had a few flare-ups and attacks. One time I had to get oxygen in an ambulance off a sidewalk in Philadelphia. One attack happened at the Philadelphia Arboretum, which is such a cool place. It's like gardens and flowers. I was there with a West Point classmate of mine, and luckily when it happened, I was like gagging and he calmly dug my rescue inhaler out of my purse. It was like on the bottom of the purse, of course. He saved the day with the inhaler. But honestly, I was just glad he didn't start yelling at me to do the funky chicken dance. Yeah, the funky chicken dance. Which, if you went to West Point, makes perfect sense. For everyone else who's like, what the fuck is she talking about? So during gas chamber training, or like when we learn about our gas masks, they put you in this chamber and you you have like your uniform on and your gas mask, and then it's CS gas, right? And part of the training is to take off your mask and expose yourself to the CS gas, which is awful. It's terrible. So you emerge from the gas chamber coughing and crying, and you're leaking fluids from every opening in your body while cadre or your leaders are screaming things like, do the funky chicken, do it, which means you're supposed to like wave your arms around in the air like you're a chicken, because they said that that helps. I have no idea if that helps. Like I have no idea what the evidence for that is to do the funky chicken after you're exposed to CS gas. But you know, it's a very normal educational environment. But last week, guys, last week, here we were again. A visit from my old friend. I walked through the park with my dog and into the pet store when I felt it arrive. And if you have asthma, you know the feeling right away. Your bronchials start constricting, squeezing, and your body reacts appropriately. Oh wow. Oxygen is important. Oh crap, oh crap, you're in trouble. So, yes, asthma can absolutely have a psychological component. Panic can make it worse, true, but I personally get annoyed when people act like asthma is just anxiety with branding. Yeah. You know, for years in history, going back, some doctors framed asthma as a suppressed emotional cry for the mother or unresolved psychological conflict. Now, I definitely have unresolved psychological conflict, just like the next guy. I mean, we're not rocks, right? We all have we all have it. But my bronchioles seem deeply committed to constricting whether or not I've processed my childhood. Yeah. And when your airways start tightening, panic enters. Mainly because you need to breathe to stay alive. So if panic's gonna show up anywhere, like, yeah, panic's in the right room, okay? Like when it shows up in that case, it's in the right room. Uh, there's actually a mind game I started doing after enough asthma attacks. I started trying to coach my nervous system through it. Like it's the big game, you know? Like, all right, everyone, just calm down, just calm down. We have survived this before. Keep your shit together, okay? Follow protocol and we'll get through. Thank God I remembered my inhaler. I took two puffs and immediately started running asthma first aid through my brain, you know, four puffs, wait four minutes, repeat if needed. I don't think I waited four minutes. I think I waited like four seconds and was just overdoing it, but um, panic. The inhaler usually works quickly for me, you know, which helps prevent the panic spiral. And, you know, thank God, thank God for conventional medicine, because, you know, I know everyone says like big pharma, big pharma. Yeah, but you know, inhalers. Now the guy working at the pet store saw me struggling and asked if I needed help. And I held up my inhaler like it was the universal distress flag for asthma. Yeah. And then I asked for water. I was like, could I have some water? Because I could still talk, you know, but just was struggling. And he looked at me and said, I can't give you water, but I can give you the code for the downstairs bathroom. Which, you know, honestly, it felt like a side quest. It felt kind of like, what? Like, what the fuck? What the code for the downstairs bathroom. Like, sir, thank you, but I'm not trying to piss or crap my way out of respiratory distress. Like, I just don't think the body works that way. Then he asked, and this made sense, he asked if I wanted him to call an ambulance. And this is where American healthcare enters the story. American healthcare. Because my first thought was, I'll probably be okay. And also, I do not want to pay that ambulance bill. Like, I have heard horror stories. One ambulance ride and how much it costs. I'm like, oh hell no. Oh, hell no, I'll survive. Worst case scenario, I'll pass out. And man, guys, that is such a darkly American thought. You know, something like nine or ten people still die from asthma attacks every day in the United States. Asthma is not psychologically fake. It's real. It can absolutely become life-threatening. But I've been through enough attacks that I knew for me, I said, Oh, the inhalers is helping, and I'll be okay. Then this is great. Then he asked if he could hold my dog because he figured I was going to go downstairs. Now, my dog Barnaby has severe separation anxiety. Severe. And, you know, so now I'm struggling with my bronchioles while emotionally supporting my dog and thinking, like, well, I can't, I can't leave him up here. But he also has a fear of steps. He doesn't go down or up steps anymore. He's an older dog, so I get it. So I shook my head no, and then I picked up my dog, Barnaby, and I started to carry him down the stairs. And the employee looked horrified, and he said, You can't do that with asthma. And I said, I'm used to it. I'm used to it. Which honestly might be the slogan for adulthood. Or God, maybe that's a little depressing. Like I'm used to it. So I get downstairs, I put Barnaby down, I walk to the bathroom, I punch in the bathroom code, and immediately start drinking water from the sink, like a Victorian street orphan. Yeah, I mean, I was just lapping up that sink water. And honestly, the bathroom turned out to be a good idea. I was in the dark, just me and my dog. I could bend forward, breathe slowly, calm myself down, splash water on my face, and let the inhaler work, you know? And my nervous system started to calm down. Of course, Barnaby, he was just eager to get out of there and go back upstairs because that's where the treats were. There was no treats down where the bathroom was. It's safe to say he is not a medical alert dog. No. Anyhow, the whole thing also made me think about how afraid people are to help each other now. Yeah. And I don't blame the employee at all. I actually think he was trying to help. But you know, he didn't give me the glass of water. And I think a lot of people worry. Like, what if I make it worse? What if I get sued, right? Because everybody sues everybody in this country. What if I do the wrong thing? What if I do the wrong thing? What if she's scamming me somehow? So instead of, sure, ma'am, here's a cup of water. We've created, uh, here's the bathroom code. Go downstairs and uh I don't know what will happen to you downstairs. Here's the bathroom code, which honestly feels like a metaphor for modern society. And I don't fault that guy at all because I've been in that situation too, like where you're afraid to help, right? Because you don't know like if you're gonna get in trouble or do something wrong and then get sued. It's it's true, it's like a real fear. Anyways, after a few minutes, my breathing settled down, my nervous system followed, uh, all was well. And afterward I realized, and I often have this realization, it wouldn't be asthma that kills me. It would be forgetting my inhaler. Yeah, yeah, forgetting it. So I bought one of those paisly purple inhaler carriers that attaches to your keys, and then I put a post-it note on my front door. Mm-hmm. All it says is, do you have your inhaler? I assume as I age the list will expand because pathos, right, pathos? Do you have your inhaler? Did you lock the door? Did you turn off the stove? Are you wearing pants? Do you even care if you're not wearing pants at this point? Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is a dream. Um anyways, that's my asthma story. And uh the first Eek speakeasy. And now, of course, the closing quote. And this one is from Sylvia Plapp from The Bill Jar. I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am. That is such a brilliant line. It really is. It's like, and she wrote this before ChatGPT guys, and you know, when people were thinking a lot and stuff. Such amazing. Alright, that's it for now. I hope you uh stick around, subscribe, subscribe to the newsletter, check out the blog, and you know, wherever you are in the world, have a great day, have a good time, and uh goodbye for now.