The official diagnosis for now is asthma. I was given a prescription for an inhaler that I have to use twice a day every day. My other inhaler is to be my "rescue" inhaler for when I feel I need a bit more. Fucking seriously? How does this happen? How can I have just developed asthma this late in life? And why is it happening now that I have discovered doing something that I love and it completely interferes with it? This fucking sucks. It really truly does. I am trying to be positive and remind myself there are a lot of athletes such as Jackie Joyner Kersee that have asthma but it still sucks. I know it could be worse. I could have a heart condition or something. I was honestly expecting them to tell me I had anemia and I needed to eat liver and spinach and give me a prescription for iron pills. Maybe I am overreacting a little but I am such an incredibly healthy person that the only things I go to the doctor for are refills for my prescription and if I think I broke a bone.

The really odd thing, and I don't remember if I put this in a blog or told someone this, is that about two months ago I said I wouldn't be surprised if I was diagnosed with asthma within the next 12 months. Fan-flipping-tastic. I cursed myself.

Okay, I just had a little cry and now I feel better. I started thinking about how manageable asthma is and how fortunate I am. Then I thought of the man who lost both of his legs in the Boston Marathon bombings and how he is always smiling in every picture. If he can have a good attitude after what he has been through, so can I. I have no reason to complain.