I’m bringing my cheerleader’s pompoms to the long game of COPD
Positive self-talk and adapted movement help me reclaim my breath and spirit
As is true with almost everything concerning my chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), my mental health requires some effort on my part.
Just as I monitor my breath, adjust my pace, and adapt my routines, I also have to take care of my own emotional well-being. The antidepressant I take helps steady the ground beneath me, but it doesn’t do the cheering, what I call positive self-talk. That part is mine.
Some mornings, my lungs feel like a quiet stadium that has emptied after a long season, echoing with memory, but slow to fill with breath. I used to wait for someone else to light the scoreboard, to tell me I was winning. Now I bring my own pompoms to the after-party.
A rehearsal for chronic illness
I was a cheerleader back when my breath came easy and my voice could rise above the crowd. I knew how to rally a team, how to turn a losing game into a moment of hope with nothing but rhythm, movement, and belief. I didn’t know then that I was rehearsing for something far more personal: the long game of chronic illness.
I also studied physical education and health. I learned early that movement isn’t just about fitness, it’s also about emotional resilience, cognitive clarity, and connection. Exercise is one of the most underused tools in mental health, and it’s one I return to often, even now. My choreography may be gentler, my routines adapted, but the principle remains: motion is medicine. Even a few minutes of stretching, a walk to the mailbox, or dancing with a wooden spoon in the kitchen can shift my mood and reclaim my breath.
Living with COPD has taught me that applause doesn’t always come from the crowd. Sometimes, it rises from within. It’s found in the gentle rhythm of a pulse oximeter that says, “You’re still here.” From the way I stir soup with a spoon that doubles as a baton. From the breath I reclaim, one inhale at a time, like a chant that builds in the belly and lifts the spirit.
There were years when I felt benched by stigma, by fatigue, by the quiet erosion of agency that COPD can bring. I remember the silence of waiting rooms, the way some people looked past me as if my breathlessness made me invisible. But I also remember the cheerleading drills — how we practiced until the moves lived in our bones. That muscle memory lives on. I’ve stepped off the sidelines of shame and into a choreography of care.
My routines aren’t rigid drills — they’re dances of adaptation. They still require continuous practice so that when I’m under stress, the routine of pursed-lip breathing comes as second nature, just as the cheering moves did decades ago.
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 seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health 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 pertaining to chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.
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