It Took My Breath Away. My Journey to Understanding Eosinophilic Asthma

For nearly 11 months, I’ve been living in a body that feels both familiar and foreign. A cold that started last December changed everything — a bad cold, the kind that knocks you off your feet. Except, this time, my lungs never fully recovered.

After months of tests, trial medications, and countless appointments, I recently received a diagnosis: Eosinophilic Asthma (yes, it’s a mouthful — and I’m still getting used to saying it too). The reality hit hard: my lungs are currently functioning at just 65% capacity.

Before this, I wasn’t on any medications. I lived an active lifestyle — hiking, walking, and keeping up with a full, vibrant calendar. Now, even something as simple as a rush to get the door or carrying groceries can feel like running a marathon.

Though some medications and life alterations have helped, my “normal” looks very different these days. And I’d be lying if I said it’s been easy. It’s been life-altering, not life-threatening — but that distinction doesn’t make it less of a challenge.

Learning to Slow Down When You Don’t Want To

Every part of my life has had to scale back — not by choice, but by necessity. I’ve had to slow down, sit more, breathe deeper (even when it feels hard), and face the reality that my body needed rest before it could rebuild.

And that slowing down… it’s been uncomfortable.Frustrating.Scary, even.

Because when the world sees you as capable, energetic, and strong, it’s jarring when you suddenly can’t keep up. Behind the scenes, I was struggling to breathe — literally — while still trying to hold on to pieces of my old self.

A past adventure to Brier Island Nova Scotia. I find this again.

But this experience taught me one of the biggest lessons of my life: self-advocacy.

I’ve had to push through dismissive answers, question test results, ask again, and hold professionals accountable. I’ve learned that advocating for your health — especially when you know something isn’t right — is a form of courage. It’s exhausting, yes. But it’s necessary.

The Mental Health Side of It All

I won’t sugarcoat it: my mental health took a hit. The exhaustion, uncertainty, and physical limitations were heavy and at times still are. I started therapy again to help me process the frustration and fear that came with this unexpected chapter.

It’s been about finding acceptance — or at least moments of it — while I still long for the day I can breathe fully again.

I’ve also learned the power of joy in small doses. A quiet cup of tea. A good book. A craft project. Laughter — even through the wheeze. Because as I said to someone recently, “If you can’t laugh, you’re going to cry.” And I have had many ugly cries.

Humour has been my oxygen some days — a reminder that lightness still exists, even when your body feels unknown to me.

What I’ve Learned (and Am Still Learning)

This past year, I’ve developed a whole new empathy for anyone whose health has been taken from them — suddenly, unfairly, and without clear answers.

I’ve realized how precious our health truly is. And that caring for ourselves today — mind, body, and soul — is how we thank our future selves.

To anyone walking a similar path, whether with health struggles or invisible battles of your own — I see you. I hear you. I understand in a new way now.

Looking Ahead

I’m still on this journey — learning to live differently, breathe differently, and trust this body that’s learning to heal. But I’m hopeful that the hardest season is behind me and that this next chapter is one of rebuild.

As I take a deep (slightly wheezy) breath, I’m reminded that sometimes life forces us to pause — not to punish us, but to teach us how to truly listen to ourselves and learn to accept and stand tall during in the process.

This past year is one I don’t wish to repeat. But I’ll carry its lessons forward with deep gratitude — for my body, for the professionals who finally helped me find answers, and for the level of resiliency I forgotten I had. (You may find listening to my Mindful Guided Meditation - Walk Away . It is an older recording but so relevant to this blog. I hope to get back into these soon as I find my breath again.)

What have you been pushing through that really needs your pause, your attention, or your care?

Sometimes courage isn’t about going faster — it’s about learning to breathe differently in the life you already have.

Here’s to breathing easier — one slow, mindful breath at a time.

xo,

Jess

Ps. My breath quivered and a couple of tears trailed down my cheek as I proofread this years journey on page. What a year.

Meet Jess Fraser, a vibrant Life Coach, retreat facilitator, podcast host, blogger, and avid book lover. With a passion for adventure, personal growth and transformation, Jess guides individuals on their journey towards self-discovery and empowerment. Her insightful writings and engaging podcasts inspire others to embrace change and embrace their true selves. If you enjoyed this article and would like to stay connected, join Jess at www.yourinnervitality.com to explore her latest projects, including her empowering guided journal, "Courage to Change Journal." Together, let's continue the journey of self-reflection, growth, and creating a life filled with courage and purpose.