I’ve always hated exercise. Now, thanks to the wonders of medical research I have a reason for being lazy and ducking out. Asthma. Recently I was feeling pretty shitty with having the cold, also the fact that sometimes I could barely breathe. I was told by a couple of family members that I might have asthma, due to my pensioner like breathing and lung capacity. So what the hell? I’ll book an appointment at the local doctors.
MEDIC!
Anyway, on the day of my appointment I decided it would be fitting to flat out sprint to the surgery to give the doc an idea of what I was dealing with. The whole flat out sprinting part worked fine until after a hundred yards I stopped, panting like a rabid beast. Well, I never was the most fitness oriented person in the world. I continued my broken stop/start sprinting method until about half way where I dared run no further for risk of respiratory arrest.
Upon arrival at the surgery, I was forced to wait in a room filled with old cretins. Not normal old people, these were cretins. I felt more like I was auditioning for a bit-part in a Dawn of the Dead remake than anything else. When I was eventually called through, a female doctor examined me and made me perform various tests. Bitch seemed menstrual so I tried my best not to annoy her. Long story short, she tells me I have asthma and prescribes me with some kick ass inhalers. One of which relieves the symptoms when they occur, and the other attempts to prevent the symptoms occurring.
The prevention inhaler is some kind of steroid vapour, and “can cause thrush of the throat”, so the doctor warns me. Fuck that, I’m not having any womens complaints in my throat. So, needless to say I’m sticking with my Salbutamol inhaler to get rid of my wheeziness. So, now I look the part of a true nerd, honking on my inhaler. Life is sweet.