Feats of (un)coordination: Inhaler edition

By the way, the working title for this article was: When you somehow simultaneously hit yourself in the head with an inhaler AND throw it behind you?!

This morning I woke up and engaged in my slow start routine like I often do (alternately this means I could legitimately be sleeping for several hours and instead choose to watch a bunch of Josh Sundquist videos like this morning or listen to podcasts). During this process, my lungs reminded me of their existence and I could not exactly ignore that mildly annoying tightness anymore once they made a weird sort of “there is a tiny bit of junk up in here” rattly-ish sound.

I keep an inhaler by my pillow most nights just so I know where it is—I don’t wake up often from asthma, but sometimes mornings can be a tad annoying or touchy before I get moving too much. So I reached up beside my pillow (where my ADHD meds also float around for easy morning half asleep dosing), and fumbled past the pill bottle for my inhaler

As one familiar with this experience might imagine, I removed the cap on the inhaler.
I then, as again one might imagine, shook the inhaler.

Inhaler adventures at night

I then, as one likely does not imagine, managed to lose my grip on the inhaler in this process. The inhaler-projectile proceeded to careen into my forehead, and then continue in nearly the same direction of travel, beyond my head, past my pillow, and into the dark, cavernous, wasteland-ish place that is between my bed/headboard/wall. I’m not exactly sure this is possible, but I do know this space is essentially the blackest black hole in every black hole of my bedroom (which is basically the whole thing).

I seriously contemplated finding a different inhaler rather than fishing it out, but fortunately, I retrieved it and still have a hand to show for it.

Look, dropping my inhaler is not new: I’ve dropped my inhaler before, many times in the last near-decade with asthma. I’ve possibly even accidentally thrown it across a space previously a time or ten. I’ve certainly sent a spacer flying, and always seem to drop inhalers late at night on hard floors when people are asleep. I’ve had the canister plus Propeller Health sensor pop out of the actuator and nearly get abandoned on a bus seat, for a lady to point them out to me that I had “dropped something”. (Seriously. I am still to this day wondering what she thought it was.)

But how on EARTH does my inhaler manage to hit me in the forehead and still end up flying in nearly the same direction to the depths of under the bed?!

I've previously written about times when asthma makes absolutely no sense? People, this is definitely one of those times, when your inhaler somehow turns into a projectile, more interested in turning itself into a shot put than actually doing its real job of providing medicine. It seems my inhaler may be interested in a career change? ;)

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