Do You Have What Ifs in Your Lungs?
Thoughts on Anxiety During this Heavy Time
As I take Buddy for yet another walk, I catch myself doing it again. I am yawning and sighing in strange, arrhythmic spurts. I feel fine physically (well, besides my arthritic knees). So why this habit of grabbing air ineffectively? Is something medically wrong?
I remember the first time this happened. I was 14 or so, and a freshly minted candy striper at our local hospital. Some janitor thought it would be fun to show me a body in the morgue. I was outwardly calm, even nonchalant, in the moment. That night, I had an awful nightmare about carrying the dead body and being unable to open my eyes. A week later, my mom took me to the doctor because of the yawning and sighing, which seemed constant (except for its miraculous disappearance when I slept). I was convinced I had some awful, terminal disease. The doctor was convinced that I had a case of anxiety.
Nothing was prescribed, and over time I did come to understand that this was the case. The symptoms were annoying but harmless. They came and went, and now I know them as my personal sign: I am trying to smother something that I’d rather not face. My body is fighting that effort, trying to get me to come to terms and take a cleansing, deep breath.
I feel lucky during this COVID-19 crisis. I was once a nurse but have, after many years, let my license lapse. So, I am nowhere near the front lines. I work from home. My job seems secure. My husband’s job, too. My mom, 91, was diagnosed with the virus but seems, miraculously, to have come through it.
But acknowledging this and expressing gratitude doesn’t seem to make the What Ifs go away: what if Mom has a relapse, and it’s more symptomatic this time? What if the nursing homes are still forbidding visitors when she dies? What if those early days of more normalcy — whenever that returns — end up causing an awful second wave that topples me, or those I love? What if a fateful, highly contaminated moment sneaks into my son’s carefully planned, socially distanced hike?
Of course, if you think you have a breathing issue (or any other unexplained bodily issue), it is essential to get a thorough medical check from a trusted clinician. But if it turns out that, like me, you carry What Ifs in your lungs (or maybe in other body parts), here are things that can help:
1. Acknowledge that you are worried. No need to act brave, no need to appear unruffled at all times. Even if you’re holding it together for your kids, your mom, your employees, acknowledge the worry to yourself in private moments. Consider sharing it in measured doses with others.
2. Accept it, without judgement. This is you being you, and you have some amazing and admirable qualities that more than counteract this foible. It doesn’t help to tell yourself things like “I am being silly,” “I should count my blessings,” or “Why can’t I get myself together?”
3. Ask, “what is my body trying to tell me?” Do you need to offer yourself some kindness, in the form of a rest, a chat with a friend, a prayer, or time to write some thoughts down? Go ahead and make a plan to tend to yourself.
4. When you are having a better day and feeling more at ease, use your rejuvenated sense of wellness to encourage others.
For me, this is a matter of lather, rinse, repeat. There’s been no one-time, quick fix. But I take comfort in knowing that there are some things I can do. Kindness matters, and that kindness can begin with your own self-care. Bonus: it has a way of rippling outward.