Read time 6 minutes
Hi, I’m Jennifer, but most people call me Jenni. I’m not a doctor, not a scientist, and certainly not someone who ever imagined she’d be writing about a rare lung disease. But life has a way of surprising us, sometimes in the most painful ways. What began as a simple cough during a vacation turned into a four-year battle for answers, for breath, and hope.
The Beginning: A Cough That Wouldn’t Quit
It all started about four years ago. My husband and I were on a dream holiday, winding down from a beautiful trip through Europe. Japan was our final stop before heading home to Australia. I remember feeling a little off, just a dry cough at first. I chalked it up to travel fatigue or maybe climate change. But the cough didn’t go away. It got worse. Much worse.
By the time we were in Japan, I was coughing so violently that I started coughing up blood. That moment was terrifying. I felt helpless, scared, and far from home. My husband, always calm in a crisis, found an international hospital. They ran tests, gave me antibiotics, and sent me off with little explanation. We flew home the next day, but something inside me knew this wasn’t just a passing illness.
The Search for Answers
Back in Australia, I wasted no time seeking medical help. What followed was a long, exhausting, and emotionally draining journey. Over the next four years, I underwent countless tests, blood work, scans, breathing assessments. Each one left me more confused than the last. The results were always inconclusive. No one could tell me what was wrong.
Physically, I was deteriorating. Mentally, I was unraveling. I started to feel like a burden, like maybe I was imagining it all. One doctor even told me, “It’s all in your head.” That sentence still echoes in my mind. It made me question myself, my instincts, my sanity.
But I knew my body. I knew something was wrong.
Then, in July 2022, everything changed.
The Diagnosis That Broke Me
After another frightening episode where I couldn’t breathe, I was rushed to Cairns Base Hospital. A CT scan was done, but again, I was sent home. Two weeks later, the symptoms returned, shortness of breath, stabbing pain in my chest. I felt like I was drowning in air.
Back to the hospital we went. This time, the ER doctor sat beside me and said words I’ll never forget: “It’s not in your head. We found it.”
I was diagnosed with Extrinsic Allergic Alveolitis, also known as Hypersensitivity Pneumonitis (HP). A rare, chronic lung condition caused by inhaling allergens that trigger inflammation in the lungs.
I was stunned. Relief washed over me; finally, a name for what I was going through. But that relief was short-lived.
The Cause: My Feathered Family
The culprit? My beloved birds. My beautiful babies. They lived in our sunroom, chirping away, filling our home with joy. But they were also unknowingly making me sick.
The avian proteins in their feathers and droppings had triggered my immune system into overdrive. We moved them into a shed with air conditioning, music, and open windows. It broke my heart, but I had no choice.
A new doctor referred me to a private lung specialist. More tests followed, a CT scan, blood work. The disease had spread to both lungs. Within just two weeks, it had doubled. That hit me harder than anything else.
On September 2nd, 2022, I underwent a lung biopsy at the Mater Hospital. It confirmed everything. Hypersensitivity Pneumonitis. Caused by my birds.
I cried for days. I felt betrayed by my own home, my own joy.
Life After Diagnosis: A New Reality
I had to quit my job at the pharmacy. Being around sick people was too risky. My immune system was compromised, and even a common cold could spiral into something serious.
Travel was off the table. No more flights. No more adventures. Oxygen pressure on planes could be dangerous. Even walking uphill or climbing stairs left me breathless and exhausted.
I changed my diet—more fresh fruits, vegetables, and protein. I lost weight to ease the strain on my lungs. I switched to natural cleaning products and started taking zinc and turmeric daily. We installed a Samsung air purifier in the bedroom. Every corner of the house had to be spotless.
It wasn’t just a lifestyle change. It was a survival strategy.
I also had to rethink how I lived day to day. I couldn’t just pop into the store or go for a walk in the park. I had to plan everything around my energy levels and my breathing. Even simple tasks like vacuuming or cooking became challenges.
Finding Community in Isolation
HP is rare. In Cairns, I’m the only known case. That loneliness was overwhelming.
So I turned to the internet. I joined online support groups, connected with people across the globe who were battling the same invisible enemy. We shared stories, articles, remedies. We cried together. We celebrated small victories.
I asked questions, lots of them. To my GP, to my specialist, to anyone who would listen. I researched natural treatments, lung-friendly foods, and anything that might help me breathe a little easier.
Knowledge became my lifeline.
The Cost of Survival
Financially, it’s been tough. We’ve used our savings for private care, hospital stays, and special tests. While Medicare covers some costs, like blood tests and CT scans, others we pay out of pocket.
A friend set up a GoFundMe page, but it didn’t raise much. Times are hard. People are struggling. I understand.
Still, we manage. We do what we must.
We’ve had to make sacrifices, cut back on luxuries, rethink our budget, and prioritize health above all else. It’s not easy, but it’s necessary.
Exploring Alternative Healing
I’ve embraced natural supplements, zinc, turmeric, leafy greens. They help. Maybe not in ways science can measure, but they give me hope. And sometimes, hope is the best medicine.
I also meditate, practice deep breathing, and try to stay grounded. Mental health is just as important as physical health. Some days are harder than others, but I’ve learned to be gentle with myself.
Family, Resilience, and Love
My family has been my rock. We’ve adjusted, adapted, and accepted. I stay home now, away from crowds and germs. It’s not easy, but it’s necessary.
We’ve cried together. We’ve laughed through the pain. We’ve found strength in each other.
My husband has been incredible, patient, loving, and always by my side. He’s seen me at my worst and still reminds me of my strength.
The Moment That Changed Me
One moment stands out above all: the realization that I knew something was wrong long before the doctors did.
Listen to your body. It speaks. It whispers. Sometimes it screams. Don’t ignore it.
I’ve opened up about my journey to educate others. If my story helps even one person get diagnosed sooner, it’s worth it.
Staying Strong: The Warrior Within
What keeps me going? A positive attitude. A bubbly spirit. A thirst for knowledge.
I don’t wait for answers to come to me, I chase them. I read, I ask, I learn. I stay active mentally. I join groups. I keep my mind sharp.
I refuse to let this disease define me.
I’ve learned that strength isn’t about never falling, it’s about getting back up, every single time.
A Message to Fellow Warriors
To anyone diagnosed with a rare disease: You are not alone.
Build a support system. Cry when you need to. Ask for help. You’re not Superman or Superwoman, you’re human. And that’s okay.
Mental health matters. Find joy in small things. Laugh. Dance. Sing. Breathe.
You are a warrior. You’ve got this.
DISCLAIMER
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not represent any kind of medical advice.