The first diagnosis

I watched my father-in-law struggle with COPD for several years. He not only smoked, but was a retired firefighter, serving at a time when the protection from smoke was not like it is today.

When I did the breathing test and was told “COPD”, I was upset and scared. I had smoked for 45 years with many attempts at quitting so it wasn’t a very big shock. But all I could see in my future was the vision of me just like my father-in-law. Not being able to walk from one end of my house to the other without stopping, sitting, gasping for air.

I am in the early stages of this disease but I can feel it starting to overcome my daily life. No more walks around my subdivision. The constant fatigue. The coughing that won’t stop. Feeling helpless and like a total failure when I watch my husband take on the tasks that I used to do. Watching my daughter be ever vigilant when we got out shopping, making sure I am OK.

I don’t like this. Not one little bit. And it is going to get progressively worse. I may not be able to survive what is to come.

This article represents the opinions, thoughts, and experiences of the author; none of this content has been paid for by any advertiser. The COPD.net team does not recommend or endorse any products or treatments discussed herein. Learn more about how we maintain editorial integrity here.

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