Two years ago, I set out on a health and fitness journey. I didn’t have any specific goal in mind. I was just done with being unhealthy and unfit. I was done with struggling to do anything – walk, breathe, bend over to put on my shoes – ANYTHING! So it began…

Year One was all about fitness and I crushed it. I was ecstatic over the benefits that I was seeing on a weekly basis. My strength and stamina improved. Household chores and daily workouts grew in intensity and I was up for the task. I lost a few pounds and tightened up in a few places. I was happy about how I was looking and feeling.

By the end of Year One, I could feel a shift coming on. What had started out as all about fitness, was about to become all about health.
In late fall of 2022, I came down with a flu. (Covid vers. 4.0 ?) I was sick! Sicker than I had been in years. I had fever, chills, sore throat, nausea, and a brutal cough. Within a couple of weeks, I had total laryngitis. The only thing missing from my typical bouts of pneumonia was the ‘coughing up blood’. Since our health system was still dealing with Covid outbreaks, it was difficult to impossible to see my family doctor or my respiratory specialist. With a history of asthma, COPD, and bronchiectasis, I dealt with with my regular inhalers, sleep, and rest. By the time Christmas was over, I was back to almost normal – with a lingering cough.
I was feeling ok, so I started working out again – doing my morning aerobics and evening weights. I was on track to end Year One strong and Head into Year Two of my Health & Fitness journey. Until… Our dog Molly accidentally slammed into me at the dogpark and knocked me face down on the frozen ground. My face was fine. My left arm, not so much. My humerus neck was broken and the ball had suffered four or five good cracks.

Fortunately, because I was relatively fit from my Year One workouts, I was able to heal without surgery. I kept relatively active, and in nine weeks, I was cleared to return to my regular workout routine of aerobics and weights. The Ambulatory Care doctor who had originally been concerned about my potential recovery time was surprised and happy with how quickly and how well I had healed.
By now, it was early March and I was fine, except for my digestive issues. For three years, I had been struggling with bloating, stabbing abdominal pains, nausea, etc. my doctor sent me for blood tests and scans of all of my internal organs. I was sent to a kidney specialist for specific tests, and I had an umbilical hernia repair done. My hernia surgeon prescribed a year (of double the typical daily dose) of medication for excess stomach acid. I was tested for celiac disease (gluten intolerance). Every test and scan came back fine but the symptoms were worse than ever.
This went on until one morning in May, when it occurred to me that this had been going on since I retired. I couldn’t remember it being a particular issue when I worked. It also occurred to me that since I retired I had been having toast for breakfast – virtually every morning. I knew the problem was not gluten. Then I remembered that my daughter was allergic to yeast – and that such allergies are hereditary. I quit eating (and/or drinking) anything made with yeast and my digestive issues disappeared like magic.

I was back on track for all of about two weeks…. and the smoke from northern Alberta forest fires started to drift south. I started to cough and cough and cough. I was feverish, achy, and feeling rough. I went straight to my respiratory specialist. He prescribed antibiotics and oral steroids and ordered x-rays and blood tests. The x-rays showed what could be infection and my blood tests indicated the presence of infection. Everything pointed to another lung infection. A few days after starting the medications, I felt better. In June, I was back to working out as much as I could, while dealing with a lingering cough.
In July, the smoke from forest fires got worse and once again my health tanked. I went back to my respiratory specialist. He prescribed more antibiotics, more oral steroids. He ordered more x-rays and blood tests and he sent me to a respiratory therapist for lung function testing. The results for the x-rays and blood tests were the same as those done in May and the lung function test showed 75% lung function. I took antibiotics and steroids and things improved – except for the all too familiar lingering cough.
August, September, and in to October were great months! I amped up my aerobics, I added more weights to my strength training exercises, and Dan and I started hiking in and around Regina. Molly was excited about this new Sunday activity. Dan and I were both enjoying the time we spent out in nature, challenging ourselves and our bodies to new heights.

In October, Dan and I agreed to go up to Lloydminster to keep son Dan’s kids, dogs, and house while he and his wife Amanda took a well deserved holiday in Mexico. While I packed and started getting ready for our two week adventure, I felt a little off. My respiratory therapist happened to call to see how I was doing and she strongly advised me to start on another round of antibiotics and oral steroids before we headed out. (By now I had such prescriptions available ‘on demand’ at our pharmacy). I took her advice and started the meds before we left.

Our time in Lloyd went well. The boys were off school for a week while we there, but they were easy to feed and entertain. Lucas was great at keeping Cason entertained when we ran thin on ideas. For the most part they took care of their dogs. Their older sister Gabby, was back and forth between her university classes and her part time job. When she was home, she was a huge help with the boys and around the house. All in all it was a great time!
My health held until we headed home and drove through Saskatoon. Then things went from bad to worse. I had an appointment scheduled with my respiratory therapist in a few days, so I held off until I could see her and get her thoughts. She thought I had best see my respiratory specialist sooner than later so she called his office and made sure I was in to see him the next morning. More x-rays, more, blood tests, more oral steroids and more antibiotics. Stronger antibiotics. Antibiotics developed to cure tuberculosis and/or the plague. (Levaquin).
A couple of weeks later, I was back to see my specialist for a follow up appointment. He said I looked good. I said I didn’t feel ‘good’. And I was still coughing. He said the cough would clear up in a few days. It didn’t.
Meanwhile my respiratory therapist was calling every few days to see how I was doing. My cough got worse. She had me try an OTC medication to break down mucus and make it easier to cough up. She suggested I try a small device that helps clear and strengthen one’s lungs. By Christmas, she strongly suggested I try another round of antibiotics and steroids from our pharmacy. I got them, but they seemed to be less effective than ever.
We hosted daughter Jennifer and family for Christmas Eve supper. It was brutal. I coughed until I was sure I had torn my umbilical hernia repair open. I coughed while draining the potatoes and poured boiling water on myself. I couldn’t eat, because I would choke and cough. After they left and we had cleaned up, I went to bed. As soon as I laid down the coughing got worse. By this time, bedtime coughing was the norm. I was sadly lacking in sleep. I was staying indoors because fresh air made me cough – as did talking, eating, sitting, or breathing. I quit using the lung exercise device that my therapist had suggested and had stopped working out. I lost weight. I stopped doing anything that triggered my coughing. That was pretty much anything and everything.
I would cough up so much mucus that I pretty much assumed that at some point I would drown. I knew that I was dying. I still wasn’t coughing up blood, I could still comfortably take a deep breath (which triggered coughing but I could do it). My lungs did not feel swollen or sore. But I knew that I was dying. My respite therapist was concerned that I would go into respiratory arrest. She had me take my blood oxygen readings and pulse every day and send them to her. She called every few days. She wanted me to see a doctor, my specialist, hospital emergency room staff SOMEONE – ANYONE but it was Christmas holidays, access was difficult, and despite the fact that I was convinced I was dying – I didn’t feel sick.
Son Dan, his wife Amanda, and son Cason arrived a couple of days after Christmas. They stayed at a hotel but as usual we kept their dogs. We had meals, we had daughter Jen and her family over for an evening. On New Year’s Eve, we had Cason and granddaughters Maddy and Prim over for supper and boardgames while Dan and Amanda went out for supper and to celebrate their anniversary.

That night after everyone left, I sat down to check out the news on my phone. I happened across a shutdown at a hospital ward in Ontario based on an outbreak of sorts. I read the article and followed from one link to another until I came across one discussing sinusitis and post nasal drip.
For a year, I had believed – and I had convinced everyone else – that I was coughing mucus up from my lungs. I suddenly realized that this was not the case. I had been coughing out mucus that was running down from my sinuses. For the first time in a year, everything made sense.
I started reading up on how to deal with sinus issues. Husband Dan got me a pad for my rocking chair, so I would naturally sit up straighter. He got me a chair pillow for bed so I could sit up and meditate before I settled in for the night. I spoke to my respiratory therapist and she suggested using my neti pot to flush my sinuses every night. Dan and I started drinking a cup of hot tea every night and I started taking a teaspoon of honey twice a day.

Within three days, I was noticeably better. I was sleeping solid every night. I was eating. My blood oxygen and pulse were back to normal. I started working out again. Dan and I have been out for supper and shopping and on warmer days I spend time outside, enjoying the fresh air.
Two months later, I am still doing well. I still have lingering sinus issues and still cough up some mucus but it is nothing compared to where I was at. I am sure that once spring arrives, with more sun and warmth and drier air, I will be fine. I will die eventually, but my death is certainly not eminent.
In Year One I could easily see the progress that I made fitness wise and the benefits I reaped. In Year Two, I was able to maintain my fitness level but in my mind it was a personal fail – which taught me a huge lesson. Over and over, when my health was tested – I failed. I made automatic assumptions based on past experiences or accepted the assumptions that others put out there. I listened to everything except what my body was telling me.
I recently began YEAR 3 of my health and fitness journey. I don’t know what lies ahead or what lessons I will learn. I can only hope that after the past two years, I am in a position to learn a little quicker and possibly save myself and others a lot of grief.

Take care and have a great day! 💞🌞

















