Over the past few months, I’ve been having some health issues. I would be dishonest if I said it wasn’t terrifying at various moments. It started in the spring when I randomly developed an innocuous, dry (unproductive) cough that eventually turned chronic. I saw my GP and we first treated the obvious: allergies (I have terrible allergies year-round) as well as acid reflux. Both are common causes at the top of the list of likelihoods. However, later that same week, on a Sunday, I started experiencing more pronounced breathlessness. Other symptoms also became more defined. Then that evening it hit: I had a scary attack, where I was fighting to breathe. It was like my airways were constricted. My chest was tight, my throat burned and had a constant itch, and I couldn’t stop coughing. I had pains with every inhale and exhale. I could barely speak. It was terrifying, and it meant a night at the A&E. I had a number of tests done, with an x-ray scan revealing a shadow on a part of my right lung. A possible sign of infection, though I had not been experiencing symptoms typical of a chest infection.

Now past a month since my symptoms started, breathlessness became the norm. More symptoms developed. On top of it all I was feeling super tired. My radiologist report arrived, and my GP set out to construct a well-defined plan – a process of slowly crossing each potential diagnosis off the list in order of liklihood. That’s really what it comes down to – in a sense, and speaking as a physicist, it’s a game of likelihoods and probabilities. The next logical step was a course of antibiotics, should that shadow on my x-ray indeed be a sign of infection.

My condition did not improve (if anything, my symptoms were getting worse). At this point, I started to become truly worried. For a young man of my age and of reasonably good health, my symptoms were unlikely the result of something as sinister as cancer; but feeling worse by the day, and with some worryingly new developments, the situation was obviously anxiety inducing. Of concern, from my first x-ray, was that ominous spot of shadow on my right lung. With one course of antibiotics done, we needed a second scan for comparison. But my continued symptoms also meant an immediate second round of stronger antibiotics (one focused on killing especially stubborn bacteria) to be completely sure (if that didn’t work, it was another thing to cross off the list). I remember thinking at the time that the situation boiled down to the following: if, in my second x-ray, there was still a shadow appearing in a certain part of my right lung, then cause for concern would increase substantially. It felt ominous – this shadow – like the Shadow of Sauron rising in the east. What could one do?

It would take some days for the second radiologist report. During this time, it wasn’t obvious the second round of antibiotics was helping; while we waited, my GP therefore decided to get the ball rolling, referring me to a lung specialist at the respiratory clinic and for a CT scan as a precaution. Even if there was a five-percent chance of cancer, we had to look at everything at this point considering the timeline (about two months or more since I started feeling unwell). I was given a two-week emergency referral, which, under NHS constitution, meant I had to be seen by a specialist in this period. It felt like the entire situation was building, and just the thought of having to undergo a CT scan was obviously terrifying.

Waiting for the results of my second scan, and also to hear back about a date for my lung appointment, I realised a lot of my symptoms were similar to asthma. Almost everything. The more I read about it, new (and possibly clearer) descriptions of my own symptoms were also forming. When I saw my GP I mentioned these observation, and she was also thinking the same – treatment for asthma was the next thing on the list.

I’ll say this, the first day on my asthma medication was bliss. It would take time for the steroid inhaler to build up in my system, but my quick relief Salbutamol inhaler hit fast. I could feel some semblance of breath more easily entering my lungs. I remember the air feeling fresh and cool for the first time in a very long time. Each day on my steroid inhaler, my cough was objectively dimensioning little by little. We wanted an objective picture, so I was also given a peak flow meter and a chart to plot each measurement. I graphed the data points, and the trend was clear: my rate of coughing was decreasing, my peak flow measure was increasing (incrementally). By days 5-7 on the steroid inhaler, my cough had significantly diminished. In the second week of treatment, I had my first day of no coughing in more than three months.

Then I got a text from my GP: the shadow had receded. “This is great news”, she followed.

Here we are today. The current evidence suggests that untreated asthma combined with an infection and then my constantly terrible allergies were the cause. My general symptoms keep improving, although I am still feeling proper rubbish. I no longer need to see a lung specialist, nor do I require a CT scan, unless my situation drastically changes. I am still experiencing some especially worrying symptoms, which are a bit scary, and so we still need to continue to monitor things closely. It is likely that these symptoms are an artefact of how bad things had become with my airways and from months of constant coughing. My GP said that it is possible it could be upwards of 4-6 months until the inflammation in my lungs reduces completely – that’s how bad it had gotten. Needless to say, it is all still very much day to day; but I take heart that the signs are positive and I seem at the moment to be responding well.

My baseline is still breathless, but breathing has been getting subtly easier (small gains) over time. I’ve had a couple more attacks in the time I started my asthma treatment. They are never any less terrifying and overwhelming; it feels like I imagine suffocating to be. One especially bad attack left me recently on floor. But my Salamol inhaler is now always close at hand, like a knight with his sword, ready to defend.

I suppose as we currently know it, that’s my asthma story. Hopefully we have found the root cause of my ill health, and that I am now on course to feeling better. All of this also contributes to the fact that I have not been writing much on this blog. Obvious health anxieties aside, it has been a super stressful and overwhelming few months. As a person with autism, such health issues obviously also bring other challenges. It has meant significant change to my daily routine; a lot of new appointments and changes of plan; new medication routines; and so on. So even on that level, just maintaining some semblance of day to day functioning has been difficult, and it has all left me feeling very tired on top of general tiredness from being unwell. To combat it, I’ve mainly spent my time in my happy place: working on some super cool calculations when feeling well enough; chilling at my computer and playing games; reading physics and some mathematical biology papers; watching Star Wars, and reading loads of Star Wars comics and lore. Oh, and drinking buckets of tea.

I want to say one last thing. Thank you to all those who have helped me in recent weeks and months. Indeed, thank all things good and pure for our NHS. My doctors, all of the hospital staff, receptionists – literally everyone – has been brilliant. You’re all very special people to be able to do the work that you do. Maybe this can be another story that contributes to the thousands each day, supporting our need to continue to protect the NHS and to ensure those who work in it are treated well and fairly.