I’m going forward, but I don’t need to break the sound barrier to be heard
Fellow West Virginian Chuck Yeager taught me a lot about how to be understood
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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 like a “Y,” but the clerks wrote down “Yeager” anyway. After a while, he stopped fighting it. He let them spell it the way they heard it, and that’s the name he carried when he broke the sound barrier.
I’ve thought about that more than once in my life with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD). There comes a point when you get tired of explaining yourself. Tired of repeating what you need. Tired of correcting people who insist they already understand. You say something as clearly as you can — I need to rest now, I’m short of breath, I can’t walk that far today — and the world still hears something else.
Like Yeager, you start choosing where your energy goes. You learn which explanations matter and which ones aren’t worth the breath they cost. COPD has a way of sharpening that skill.
‘Let that be enough’
Some days, I can explain my limits with patience. Other days, I feel like I’m spelling my own name over and over to someone who keeps writing it down wrong. People mean well, but they don’t always hear the truth of what you’re saying. They hear what fits their understanding of illness, or aging, or what they think “tired” means.
But here’s the thing: Yeager didn’t lose himself when he stopped correcting people. He didn’t become less of a Jeager or less of a West Virginian. He simply chose the version that let him move forward without wasting his strength.
Living with COPD asks us to make similar choices. We adapt. We conserve. We decide what’s worth explaining and what isn’t. We learn to say, “This is what I need today,” and let that be enough — even if someone else spells it differently in their mind. There’s dignity in that kind of clarity.
And there’s dignity in the tools that help us breathe: oxygen, inhalers, pulmonary rehab, pacing, rest. These aren’t signs of weakness. They’re the spelling that makes our lives readable again. They’re the way we keep moving through the air in front of us.
If you’re tired of repeating yourself, you’re not alone. If you’ve had to adjust your life so others can understand you, that’s not failure — that’s wisdom. And if you’ve ever felt unseen or unheard, remember this: The truth of who you are doesn’t change just because someone else writes it down differently.
You’re still you. You’re still moving forward. And you deserve to be understood without having to run out of breath to get there.
Note: COPD News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always consult your physician or other qualified healthcare provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of COPD News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues about chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.
Barry Hoehn
Loved the article
David A Sylvester
Thanks Caroline. Great article
Tim Williams
I can relate to Ms Gainer so much more than I could a few years ago. I was diagnosed with moderate to severe COPD about 10 years ago, and have slowly learned that I can still be productive, and complete many tasks, but I learned how to "pace myself". I used to keep my O2 "reader" in my pocket, so when I started to feel exhausted, I could see how low my 02 was, and take a little break, until it went above 90 again. Now, I know the feeling, and know where all the quick spots are to sit and catch my breath, until it is safe enough to continue what I was doing. I do use a 02 concentrator while I sleep, but only use my portable during the day when I feel low on 02. So, only a few times a week, as I know when to slow down now, before I get below my comfort level.