Life Tethered to a Concentrator — Caroline Gainer

On summer nights, when the air settles soft over the hills, and the porch boards hold the day’s last warmth, I watch the lightning bugs rise. They drift up from the grass like sparks shaken loose from the earth, each one carrying its own small lantern. People talk about their…

Note: This column describes the author’s own experiences with various supplements. Not everyone will have the same response to treatment. Consult your doctor before starting or stopping a therapy. Up here in the hills of West Virginia, we’ve always believed in taking care of what you’ve got, because getting more…

Many of us fall into a quiet trap as we get older. A new ache will show up or a task will become harder than it used to be and we’ll shrug it off with a familiar “Well, I’m just getting older.” But aging is not a diagnosis, and…

I’ve learned that fear doesn’t always come from something that’s in front of us. Sometimes it rises from a much older place, a place the body remembers even when the mind has moved on. I can see this clearly now that I live with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD),…

Some teachers leave you with formulas and lab reports. Others leave you with something that follows you into the harder seasons of life, long after you’ve forgotten the periodic table. When I was diagnosed with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), I found myself reaching back to lessons I…

People who don’t have any experience with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) often imagine the oxygen tubing we use as the easy part. It’s a soft little line that trails behind us like a polite shadow. But those of us who depend on it know better. The tubing is…

There are moments in life with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) that divide everything into the before and the after. Some are dramatic, such as the first hospitalization or the first time you realize that stairs have become mountains. But others arrive quietly, almost shyly, yet still manage to…

When I learned that pilot Chuck Yeager grew up with his family name spelled Jeager, something in me paused. The story goes that when he joined the military, no one could understand how to spell it. He kept repeating himself, trying to explain the German “J” that sounds…

Some symptoms arrive with fanfare — a cough that won’t settle, a flare that tightens the chest, a night when the oxygen just doesn’t feel like enough. But others slip in quietly. Lately, I’ve been having days when my temperature rises just a little above normal. Not a true fever,…

When I was a young girl, I had a hen named Wimpy. She got her name because she had a game leg and limped when she walked, but that limp never slowed her determination. Wimpy laid 12 eggs and rolled them, one by one, to her nest. Then she settled…

When I was a little girl, my mother often sent me to the cornfield with my father. I suspect it was partly to give her a moment of quiet, because I was at the age of endless questions. Daddy didn’t mind. He handed me a hoe and gave me a…