Stairs and Lung Disease

Stairs. I hate them. In the beginning of dealing with my lung disease, when confronted with a set of stairs, I would almost panic. Often, I would have to stop on the stairs to catch my breath before making it to the top. In those days, I would also be in a sweat.

In rehab, we learned to not panic. Panic brings a higher heart rate to the party which make it harder to breathe which brings on the sweat. So, at the bottom of the stairs, I learned to stop, settle my breathing, calm down, begin purse-lipped breathing then slowly climb the stairs. I would make it to the top in better shape and before long, the initial panic stage began to wane. 

Stairs vs Ramps? Ramps are worse. I would rather climb a flight of stairs rather than make a long, drawn out hike up a ramp. 

In mom's new apartment, she is on the second floor. Parking is on the first floor. There is the problem. With her osteoporosis and being bent forward, she is now very short of breath. Does she walk a long way away to access the elevator or does she just do the stairs? She has chosen to just do the stairs. 

Me? After years of avoiding stairs, I find myself having to climb the stairs at least twice every time I am with her. Often, I am carrying groceries or boxes which exacerbates the breathing problem. After a month of doing this, I just do it. I don't even think about having to climb the stairs once again.

I thought I was doing great until yesterday. Michael had stopped by to help set up a grab bar in her bath area. He mentioned that he could hear me struggling to breathe after I did a run down to her garbage area and back while they were working on it. I had not noticed. Maybe I need to slow down, remember to do my purse-lipped breathing and be more mindful instead of focusing on the task for my mom.