As the years went on the doctors found it hard to keep me stable and suggested in 1972 that I go and live at a children's asthma research institute hospital called C.A.R.I.H. As I arrived January 10th 1972 w/ Mom and grandma in tow I remember checking in at the office but don't remember much after that because of an attack. I stayed 2 years and then came back home.
My life has been a struggle but manageable with medications for asthma and A-topic dermatitis however, any slight allergy, cold or flu would set off an attack or a bout of the itchies. Although I have millions of stories I am going to tell just this one.
One day our neighbor came over and set a plate on our kitchen counter and said it was for my Dad. It looked real good, sorta like fried chicken. I was so hungry that day that I thought to myself "Oh' Dad won't miss a piece" and I took one and went in the other room and took a bite. A few seconds later, I feel to my knees gasping for air. Everyone was yelling but I couldn't hear what they were saying. All I remember was Dad picking me up and running me out to the ambulance. It seemed like forever to get to the hospital. When I woke up the doctors told me I had an allergic reaction to the fish. I've never toughed it again.
In my teen years I started rebelling and hanging out with the goof balls and smoking. I am now 50 y/o and finding that my C.O.P.D. is getting worse. I guess it's time to stop rebelling and let it go. IF I want to live! :)