18th
FOCUS
WORD OF MY BREATH
A few days ago I went to the Pulmonologist for a specialized breathing test in preparation for a Bronchoscopy and had an epiphany of sorts. I had already met Dr. Gill at a previous appointment, liked him and judged him to be a competent practician in his field.
I was ushered into a room by a gentle East Indian woman who sat me down in front of a large computer screen. The tenor of my surroundings and the fact that I knew I needed the check up to be successful, made me feel a little anxious. The technician had a calming voice and demeanor, and that did put me at ease.
She began, “You may have had a breathing test before, but this kind is exhaustive and is necessary for the doctor to evaluate your condition. Do not be nervous. I have administered hundreds of these tests, and you are going to be fine.” I sighed in relief.
I showed her the prescription inhalers I use at home and she explained that I would do the first phase of the test without them and later on do a breathing treatment, wait 10 minutes and repeat the test again to see the contrasting outcome. I was to hold on to the pole with my right hand, place my mouth around the breathing hose that connects to the computer gauges, breathe into it normally, and we would begin with a practice run through.
Following the technician’s voice commands, I would take in the largest inhale I could, then exhale as strongly as possibly could, for as long as she indicated, stopping only when allowed by voice cues. This was my quest, my job, my goal. I considered it a challenge; something I had to accomplish. I braced myself like an athlete; as I used to before a tennis match and was ready to begin.
When you have asthma, you unconsciously change your regular breathing pattern to a shallower rhythm, since you can start a coughing fit that is extremely difficult to stop, at the end of any long or firm exhale. So when Dr. Gill, (which I found out was the breathing technician’s name; Dr. Gill’s wife and an Internist, who has put her own practice on hold for a time, to raise her two children and work part time in her husband’s Pulmonary office), told me that the object of the first test was to blow very hard, as if I was trying to extinguish multiple candles on a birthday cake, I knew that this would require some concentration.
Dr. Gill sat on my left and with her lilting voice commands directing me, I began the evaluation. I breathed through the exercise, watching the computer screen the whole time and after the first round, I saw the large words flashing at me, “EXPIRATION FAILED!!!!” I have to admit, I was shocked and a little dejected. Failed?
I heard Dr. Gill’s calming voice tell me more instructions on how I might improve next time, that I would be able to pass and thought how I had to finish. There was no way to just give up. This was the point at which I was no longer playing a sport; this was life and not a ‘win or lose’ game.
I have heard many times about sports heroes and how they are able to win many championships, and most of them talk about visualization. My understanding is that they think about seeing themselves playing their sport before they physically go out to a match, go through all the moves in their minds, make decisions to crucial strategies that are probable in a particular game and therefore are perceiving themselves as a success. Sometimes they will have a coach stand beside them as they close their eyes, who will ‘talk them through’ the process; someone with a familiar voice, whose encouragement infuses their spirit with hope. There is research that has proven this to be an effective method for the achievement of their goals.
After trying the breathing test several times and seeing the screen repeatedly tell me what a failure I was, the frustration was mounting, and I wondered how I might have fared had I known to prepare like an athlete with visualization training and a coach to voice cue me, like the Wimbledon champions do. Then it occurred to me that Dr. Gill WAS my coach. She had talked hundreds of people through this procedure over 15 years, and she was the expert. I could rely on her. Furthermore, I could hear my husband’s voice at the back of my head, saying, “Susan, combat breathe. Combat breathe,” like he had done dozens of times before.
In the military there is a thing called ‘Combat Breathing’, that my husband, Jeff, taught me, that has helped me many times when I used to have panic attacks. The Special Forces use it to control their sympathetic nervous systems when they are in stressful situations, like: reconnoitering a foe’s tactical position, enemy capture and subsequent torture. I began. Immediately, I could feel my breathing slowing to a normal rhythm.
Now, I had my two coaches; the technician on my left, with expertise in breathing testing, giving me precise, and simple instruction, for I think I was making everything a little too hard for myself, and my Jeff’s voice regulating my anxiety; the sound more familiar to me than any other human being’s, calming my nerves, because I could not complete the task carrying the burden of the stress of failing. I had to let go.
One thing remained. Looking at those words, “EXPIRATION FAILED!!!!”, was a major problem for me, so without a conscious decision on my part, I closed my eyes, and took one last try. With voice cues only, I continued, and when I think of it today, I wonder why I took so long to close my eyes, since my best musical composition work is done with my eyes closed, and I have taught students certain piano techniques blindfolded when they were struggling. My typing teacher used the same method with kids also. There must be something to that, ‘walking by faith and not by sight,’ because on that first sightless try, I succeeded. Sigh.
I have decided that we all need three things when facing a challenge which causes us anxiety: a friend beside us with the expertise, who coaches and encourages us, sufficiently that we can stop making things harder than they really are; an inner voice we are intimately familiar with, that calms us enough that we agree to let go of the weight we sometimes insist on carrying, (especially the crushing weight of failure); and finally, the instinct to look away, or even close our eyes to the failure messages we get from everywhere, and be willing to open our eyes to the possibilities and opportunities before us of little miracles of success. Just don’t forget to BREATHE.
“We are not contemplating the things that are seen but the things which are not seen, for the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.” II Corinthians 4:18
