aspiration pneumonia

Updates on Charlotte, my moldy lung.

That Asian-Looking Chick Leave a comment

Poor Charlotte. Charlotte the Lung is permanently partially collapsed. Charlotte is… moldy with a fungus.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

First of all! Please do stay tuned for the tale of my haunted anniversary trip, as it is forthcoming. I have pics and everything! That was going to be today’s post, but since I went to see my pulmonologist earlier this week, I’ll go ahead and share those updates with you who’ve been following Charlotte the Lung’s ongoing (mis)adventures.

This time, I met with my own pulmonologist, Dr. M, so we could go over my bronchoscopy and Pulmonary Function Test results. (The surgeon who performed the bronchoscopy had shared his post-procedure findings and impressions, but I’m not his patient.)

This is what Dr. M told me, in order:

1). [::Walks into the room; sits down; looks at me::] “Your lung has a mold.”
It’s the fungus aspergillus. It grew in a Petri dish in the weeks following my bronchoscopy. This took me by surprise. Of all the things I thought I’d hear, “Your lung has a mold” wasn’t one of them. (Charlotte!!) Dr. M suspects that aspergillus was able to flourish in my lung because of the intermittent immunosuppressant therapy I do for Sjögren’s Syndrome. That would be Methotrexate, which I’m back on at the moment.

2). My lung will always be partially collapsed.
A larger area of collapse would require a stent, Dr. M explained, but mine is small. And it’s fine. I’ve been living with it, and I’ll continue to live with it. I mean, what else am I going to do? And really, it’s fine.

3). My Pulmonary Function Test revealed air-trapping,
which is when all of the air that’s inhaled in a breath can’t be exhaled. This a normal finding for someone with a collapsed lung. It’s common with conditions such as COPD and asthma, as well.

–The creepy web in my lung (covering the smallest airway in my Right Lower Lobe) wasn’t a birth defect, after all.
Turns out that the web was a by-product of inflammation caused by damage (collapse) and disease (aspergillus infection), basically a build up of cells. A strange, filmy sort of mass.

–The scarring in my lung
is likely the result of the aspiration event and aspiration pneumonia that started all of this, and it, too, is permanent.

Oh, Charlotte. From aspiration of a foreign object to severe aspiration pneumonia to COVID to my intermittent immunosuppressant therapy, we had, in the words of Dr. M, “a perfect storm.”

It could be so much worse. I’m grateful, thankful that this is all it is. I certainly appreciate having an in-depth understanding of why I wheeze and experience shortness of breath, have occasional difficulty taking a deep breath, why it’s harder to breathe when laying on my back, why I have a dry cough, and why I can’t get through an hour of HIIT cardio or hike at a certain altitude without using an inhaler.

I’ll have another CT scan and Pulmonary Function Test and appointment with Dr. M in six months, so we can see how things are going.

My treatment plan remains the same. I’m continuing on my two inhalers. I declined the 30-day course of anti-fungal antibiotics, opting to see whether the fungal infection will resolve itself, though Dr. M thinks that I’ve had it for a good while. I’m to let him know right away if my wheezing and shortness of breath get worse, or if I develop other symptoms.

It’s been a good week. I’ve been enjoying my reptile kid as he gears up for hibernation; job-hunting; working out; doing the usual household tasks; being a Cat Mom; playing games; watching hours of T.V. with my Favorite Person; and reading a lot. These are from today:

[10/3/2024]
Also today. Funny how it looks like I’m laying on one cushion. There are two.
Favorite Person is hilarious!!
I’m greatly enjoying the Andy Greenberg books I picked up, even though they get me riled up with fury and disbelief. Well, this one I’m currently reading, anyway. (Sandworm: A New Era of Cyberwar and the Hunt for the Kremlin’s Most Dangerous Hackers)

It’s the world we live in.

Okay, I can feel the Capricorn stirring. I’m tired. I’ll wish you all a good night and a great week ahead!

More pulmonary adventures! (Lung updates.)

That Asian-Looking Chick Leave a comment

Hello and welcome back to my blog that seems to be all about my lung. Seriously, I’m looking forward to the day I don’t have to come here with lung updates, because that will mean that everything that needs to be known will be known, not to mention sorted. It’s been a long year and two months of this nonsense, let me tell you.

Earlier this week I met with my pulmonologist, who, after listening to my breathing, said that he wants to get into my lung to investigate with a camera. The procedure, a bronchoscopy, is scheduled for next week. I have focal RLL (right lower lobe) bronchiectasis, RLL atelectasis (he thinks that this collapse is due to my linear scarring), and relapsed childhood asthma – that last, a likely consequence of the aspiration event/pneumonia. (If I never had childhood asthma, my current asthma symptoms would be referred to as “RAD,” or post Reactive Airway Disease… a fancy way of saying that I have lingering respiratory symptoms post-pneumonia.)

There’s a possibility, says the doctor, that my Sjögren’s syndrome is involved in some of these pulmonary shenanigans. I hadn’t known that Sjögren’s syndrome can affect the lungs, so that was something nifty that I learned!

We shall see, then. On my part, there’s nothing I can be doing differently. I’m diligent about taking my medication, and I’m getting regular exercise; when I described the intense workouts that I do six days a week, the doctor said excellent, keep it up. That was good. Confirmation is good. I can keep doing what I’m doing, and next week, we should know more.

That’s it for updates! Thank you for reading, as always, friends. And take care, please.

All Right, Lunger. Let’s do it. (Lung and Fitness updates!)

That Asian-Looking Chick Leave a comment

We’re talking about my lung, so I stretched and reached for that Tombstone quote, even though my lung issues have nothing to do with tuberculosis. (Definitely a stretch, but Tombstone is my all-time favorite and most re-watched movie. Let me have it!)

Today marks a bizarre anniversary. It was one year ago today that I accidentally inhaled a large vitamin caplet. That’s right. It’s been a year. On May 10, 2023, I aspirated a vitamin. The next day, I consequently developed aspiration pneumonia.

For those of you accompanying me on my path back from this absurd and inexplicable event, I’m here to share the latest. My recent CT scan – taken a month ago – revealed that I’m continuing to make progress. Some scarring remains, and there are some ongoing shenanigans taking place down there in my lung, but I’ve improved considerably.

Impressions copied/pasted from my CT scan report:
1). A stable 6 mm solid nodule versus nodular scarring in the right lower lobe.
2). Mild bilateral lower lobe bronchiectasis and multifocal mucous plugging in the right lower lobe.
3). Stable regions of chronic linear scarring and subsegmental atelectasis in the right lower lobe.

The reason why all of this damage is in my right lower lung lobe is that that is where shit goes when you inhale it. If you didn’t know, now you know.

My doctor encouraged me to give it time, because the situation at the beginning was “very, very bad,” and the COVID I had back in November likely impacted my recovery process. I should be patient as my lung continues to heal, she advised.

I’m not worried. We compared this CT scan with the one that was done a year ago, and the whole picture’s looking MUCH better. In the initial scan last year, my right lung lobe was so riddled with opacity that it lit up like a wayward Christmas tree.

Symptoms-wise, I still wheeze somewhat, though nowhere near as dramatically as before. I still sometimes struggle to take a deep breath, especially at night when I’m lying on my back, and also toward the end of my hour-long Body Combat workouts. To help with this, my doctor increased my Wixela inhaler medication dosage and instructed me to use it twice a day, morning and night, rather than just once. She also has me doing my Albuterol inhaler right before working out, so I can breathe comfortably throughout the hour. It’s been capital! I’m breathing easier during Combat, and thanks to my nighttime Wixela dose, I’m also getting to sleep a little bit faster.

It’s been quite the road. Along the way, I couldn’t have imagined what this one-year anniversary post would contain, and now here we are: I still have symptoms. I have damage. But the symptoms and the damage aren’t keeping me from doing anything, and that, my friends, is all that matters. As far as I’m concerned, this is my new normal, and I’m okay with it. Working out religiously 6x/week, I’ve managed to re-build my muscle mass while also getting back down to my normal weight of 110 lbs. (Fortunately, I’d only gained 12-ish lbs during the seven or so months I couldn’t exercise.)

In honor of this one-year, um, vitamin anniversary, I took some pics yesterday before and during my Combat workout.

First, earlier yesterday afternoon:

Sitting around with red lights in my eyes, as one does.

Okay, I took a bunch of selfies while sitting on the couch, and they all came out with red dots of light in my eyes. You know that I’m still too lazy to figure out how to edit photos. It’s whatever. Just know that I’m not possessed.

This brings us to these slightly awkward, cheesy, potentially cringey pics! Enjoy.

Arms, post-Body Combat:

VEGAN GAINS.

Shoulders, post-Body Combat:

MORE GAINS.

Forearms:

Okay, not a great pic, but you get the idea. Haha!

And the real stars of the show: Inhalers!

Help with exercise and sleep, respectively.

I’m supposed to be taking my prescribed Mucinex, as well, but I’ve been awful at that. Meaning, I haven’t taken it at all, and I don’t know that I will. I don’t feel that I need it, but you know what? It wouldn’t hurt to try it!

Okay, I’ll take the Mucinex. See, you guys help me out just by being here, by being a part of this experience. Your reading holds me accountable, and for that, I thank you.

Until next week, then, right?

[::holds up water flask for a water toast::]

Go forth in good health, my friends.

PSA: Thou shalt not put in the lung what belongs in the stomach.

That Asian-Looking Chick 6 Comments

I’m back with another Public Service Announcement personal-experience post, because when I manage to run afoul of some innocuous thing, such as a door, I feel morally obligated to share. You can learn from my follies and foibles. At any rate, it’s good to maintain a level of wariness when it comes to hidden dangers in your own environments.

In case you missed them, here’s:

the time I almost amputated my foot with a steel security screen door,

the result of my subsequent failure to go to the E.R. for stitches, and

the time I walked off a loading dock without realizing that it was a loading dock.

(I also wrote about the time I tripped and fell on the sidewalk, but that’s not weird. Everyone trips and falls on sidewalks at some point.)

Anyway, if you’re curious about this latest fiasco, fix yourself a drink or a cuppa and settle back to read my tale of woe. Some of you… maybe especially you who’ve known me the longest… are going to laugh, or eye-roll, or facepalm, or all of the above, and I’m okay with that. I’m right there with you. I believe I’ve outdone myself this time, friends.

Yeah. Really. [25 May 2023]

At 10:15pm Wednesday, May 10, I took a vitamin, the same one I take every night… only this time, instead of going down my esophagus into my stomach, the vitamin went down my trachea into my lungs.

And now I have multifocal aspiration pneumonia. Yeah. I have pneumonia as a consequence of taking a vitamin.

Right?!

Aspirating that vitamin took considerable talent, my friends. It was a horse pill. I’m not even sure how I did it. Of the various mishaps I’ve experienced over my lifetime, one of them has to be the weirdest, and this is it… the weirdest of my weird mishaps.

If you’re wondering what it felt like in the aftermath, imagine someone setting fire to your lungs. I’m trying to think of another time I’d characterize pain as “burning,” and I can’t recall a burning pain instance that could rival this one. It was ghastly.

At the E.R., I was examined and reassured that I wasn’t going to die. I was skittish when the Lidocaine appeared before me in a little paper cup. It would numb my throat, they warned, and that made me nervous. I declined. I went home. But the pain worsened until I had no choice but to go back to the E.R. – it was 3:00am, and I was in agony. I went in with my proverbial tail between my legs and begged for the damn Lidocaine cocktail.

I expected the Lidocaine to taste vile, but the reality is that nothing is truly vile if it extinguishes fire in your lungs and throat. It was thicker than the thickest paint, and it tasted like paint, too, but the relief was immediate. It cooled the inferno in my chest cavity.

We got home just after 5:00am. I called in to work, fell asleep, and woke up at 11:00am with an intense headache and a fever of 100.6. But the pain in my lungs and windpipe was gone!

My fever fluctuated all day, up and down. The next morning I felt like I should go to work, so I did. I thought that that was the end of it. I thought that the crisis was over. When a nurse called from my primary care physician’s office, though, she said that because of my fever, I should go back to the E.R. to get checked out.

The next day was Saturday. I felt worse… coughing, wheezing, feverish. Short of breath. Exhausted. At the E.R., I was diagnosed with aspiration pneumonia, which you can get when a foreign object invades your lungs. Of course.

There commenced, over the next two weeks, several daytime stays at the hospital. I.V. antibiotics. I.V. fluids for hydration. Breathing treatments. Numerous vials of blood for testing, several chest X-rays, two contrast C.T. scans, and even an E.K.G., for some reason. At some point, the word “multifocal” was added to my diagnosis, because they found pneumonia in two different parts of my lung (both the middle and the lower right lobe). The doctors – my primary care physician and pulmonary specialist – extended my course of antibiotics, and also put me on Prednisone (steroids).

Be patient with your recovery, they cautioned, because multifocal pneumonia is generally more severe than pneumonia that affects only one part of the lung lobe. (This has already been my experience. The first and only other bout of pneumonia I had – back in 2020 – involved just one part of my lung, and this time is definitely worse.)

Two days ago, I went back to work after two weeks out. I’m still wheezing, wet coughing in the morning and dry coughing during the day, short of breath and using the Albuterol inhaler. But my blood oxygen levels are great, and all of my other symptoms are gone (for the most part).

I’m well on my way out of this mess, but it’s going to take a while for my lung to return to normal. I’ve been warned that relapse can occur and the pneumonia can come back full-force if I overdo it before full recovery, so I have to resume my normal activities slowly. Lightly. I felt worse when I woke up yesterday morning; it wasn’t the best idea to do a full 8-hour workday my first day back. I should’ve started with a half-day. Somehow, that didn’t cross my mind.

It’s just hard to remember that while the acute phase is over, I’ve not yet recovered. Full recovery from multifocal pneumonia will take three to six months. I have to keep reminding myself of this. (The first time I had pneumonia, it wasn’t multifocal, and it took five months for my chest X-ray to clear).

I have to be mindful of my physical limitations, which is hard, as I like to be active and do things. I can’t move quickly, can’t lift. I need to continue “taking it easy” until I’m fully recovered, because to do otherwise would be risking relapse.

As for my 2023 fitness journey? HA HA HA! This is what I was talking about when I said it was “start and stop” in my last post. I can’t work out again until I get exercise clearance from my doctor, and when I do, I have to keep the duration and intensity level of the workouts to 50% at the most… and I won’t be able to get that clearance until I see my primary care physician in two weeks.

So this is the PSA part:

–Don’t aspirate foreign objects into your lungs.

–If you do, take the Lidocaine cocktail when they give it to you at the E.R.

–If you develop a fever following the incident, do not go to work the next day! GO TO THE E.R. ASAP.

–When you do go back to work, don’t jump in with a full day. Start with a half-day. When the doctors say “ease back into it,” do.

And that’s the story of the last few weeks. Of my latest ridiculous freak accident. I have upcoming appointments with Primary Care and Pulmonary as they monitor my progress. I’m happy that I can sleep lying down now (I couldn’t before, because lying down caused coughing fits), I can speak full sentences without running out of breath, I can taste things again, and I have an appetite. At the beginning of the pneumonia, all I wanted to eat was fresh watermelon, pineapple, and popcorn. I still crave those things and eat them every day – I am blessed – but now I’m able to eat other foods.

I can’t say enough how much I appreciate the doctors, nurses, technicians, and staff at the Phoenix V.A. The Phoenix V.A. takes a beating in the media, and it’s undeserved. The health care I receive there is wonderful!

Blessed.

Be careful out there, friends.