My Dad's Inhaler

In the May 2009 Bronchitis Saga I've had to break down and use an albuterol inhaler again.

This feels really bad, like some kind of defeat. I haven't needed to use albuterol for my asthma in years. Since changing to a vegetarian, then vegan diet it hasn't bothered me nearly as much. I went from having to use it for emergencies about every other month, and daily if I had bronchitis (usually twice a year), to not having used it since 2002.

Until this week. I've been so out of breath and coughing really hard. The one I still had kicking around was really old (2001) so my doctor prescribed a new one for me. We both agreed that I should have one regardless of the bronchitis in case I did have an emergency.

Yesterday, feeling incredibly short of breath, I finally broke down and had the prescription filled. The little excursion to the pharmacy left me utterly exhausted & shaky for the rest of the day. I also was coughing a lot yesterday and stayed home from the Dharma Center again, which feels unsettling having been away two weeks.

When I got back home and opened up the package I realized why the brand-name, Proventil, sounded familiar. After dumping out the contents of the box my hands held my Dad's inhaler. This felt pretty creepy.

My Dad died December 11, 2009. I was there. Well, actually I was outside when it happened, fixing the wooden reindeer in his yard that had fallen forward on its nose, something that would have bugged him. He died while I was outside taking care of his Christmas decorations.

The death certificate would say that the cirrhosis (alcoholic) beat the COPD (smoker) as the cause of death. I don't keep bottles of Seagram's around the house, not sure if I would. But it felt unsettling seeing same inhaler he used, the ones I'd see around his house, by the side of of is bed. Especially since I was using it.

So much of my life is driven to not become my family. Sometimes our greatest lessons in life come from watching teachers who show us what not to do. My family members represented all of the six realms of existence - distracted by desires (human), anger (hell), craving (hungry ghosts), at the mercy of instinctive response (animal), envy (jealous titans), and pride & indifference (gods). Having spent the past decade plus separating myself from years of unhealthy training it feels like something of a failure to be using the same inhaler my Dad used.

Yeah, totally unreasonable. There's a big part of me that knows that and I'm trying really hard not to let that part beat me up about the fact that I'm still kind of creeped out by using the same inhaler as my Dad before he died. It isn't a failure, it is just bronchitis.