I remember when I was growing up with hard-luck asthma excitedly racing my brothers David and Bobby to the family car shouting, "Shotgun!"  I won this time.  It was always nice to ride in the front seat.  It was a great day.  That was until half way to grandma's my heart fluttered as I realized I didn't have my inhaler with me.

I felt my pockets several times.  It was not there.  While my asthma was fine when I left home, I was now feeling short of breath.  I knew the only reason I was short of breath was because of my bronchodilator anxiety.  If I have it I'm fine.  If I don't have it I'm bound to have an asthma attack.  It's an asthma rule.

So now I'm an adult.  I know I have two inhalers in the car somewhere.  I know for a fact I have one in the suitcase.  I know my asthma is not acting up.  I know my asthma is controlled, and yet my bronchodilator anxiety still strikes.  I'm now starting to feel a mild shortness of breath.  Or am I? Maybe it's all in my head. 

Throughout the entire trip my inhaler filled a portion of my mind -- or my entire life for that matter.  If you'd pay close attention to me you'd see me occasionally swiping my palm over my pocket.  I need that constant reassurance it's there.  If I don't feel it, I have to find it.  I have to know.  Otherwise I'll need it.

The weather was awesome in Florida, the kids were able to meet Mickey Mouse, swim every day, and visit with their grandparents.  And, thanks to good planning, the asthma was a non issue.

Ironically even as I sit here typing this I'm wondering: Where is my inhaler?  Where was I the last time I used it?  I don't need it right now, but...

I bet I'm not the only asthmatic with bronchodilator anxiety. If you've experienced this or something similar let us know in the comments below.