Who knew you could fail at breathing?

At around 2:30am last night, I woke up feeling like an elephant was sitting on my chest. I opened my eyes to check, and... nothing. Problem was, I still couldn't breathe right, as if something was compressing my chest. I forced myself to inhale and exhale deeply, but it wasn't satisfying, so I woke up Matthew. What else? He said to mention this to my doctor in the morning.

As fate would have it, I had an 11am appointment anyway to get a prescription for malaria pills. That took 24 seconds. The rest of the hour was a series of tests.

I have to say, today was the best nurse experience I've ever had. Normally the nurse who takes your vitals and preps you for the doctor has little or nothing to say. This girl cracked me up, and she thought I was hilarious.

First came the EKG. She told me it would be really painful, but I saw through her eyes and I called her a liar. She laughed and said everybody falls for that one. There was nothing abnormal, except when I tried to sit up a little and look at the screen, my heart rate must have risen because the lines jumped way up and I was hushed back to a horizontal position. Ooops! I was just curious!

Next came the lung test where you had to imitate the Big Bad Wolf and blow as hard as you can through a tube. A computer measures the strength and depth of your breath, I guess. I was told I needed three good breaths, and if not then I would keep going until the computer was satisfied (or until I passed out). That encouraged me to give it my best. So I huffed and puffed and blew as hard, fast and long as I could until my face was red and my chest was quivering. Fail. -need deeper breath- says the computer. What?!? I compose myself and try again. Fail again. -need deeper breath- I sit down this time. Fail. Fail. Fail. -need deeper breath--need deeper breath--need deeper breath-

To make a long story short, I must have blown out my lungs 15 to 20 times. The nurse was patient and kept giving me tips, but I never gave the computer a good one. During my 'resting time' between blowing those darn pigs' houses down, I exclaimed the following:
--"How do smokers pass this test?"
(to this, she replies: 'Doctors have them do it every time they come in, so they're ready for it.' 'So they cheat and practice at home!' I respond)
--"This is so unfair!"
--"I must have smaller lungs than everyone else!"
--"I must have a weak diaphram!"
--"No wonder I can't project when I sing!"
--"How can I be failing at breathing? I've been breathing since BIRTH!"
--"This is ridiculous!"
--"How much longer?"
--"This is a trick! An impossible test to pass!"
--"But I AM trying!"
--"I finally know what my students must feel! My best will not be good enough!"
--"AAaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!"

The torture ended because the nurse knew that I was a goner. The computer gave me an average. Nothing was alarming, except that I still felt like I was wearing a very tight corset. My initial thought was asthma, since it runs in the family.

Final conclusion from the doctor: "You must be coming down with something viral. Take some anti-inflammatory pills, and that should help with the soreness and pain in your chest cavity. If it gets worse, go to the ER."

Oh, ok. Thanks.