As a young boy, my asthmatic lungs knew when harvest started in the nearby farm fields of central Illinois. Without a combine in sight, I knew that the work had begun.
As the corn and soybean particulates swirled in the country air, tears welled with the sharp tightening of my small chest — as I battled my body to take a deep breath.
As I grew older, I learned the hard way to be prepared — regularly taking my control inhaler and keeping the nebulizer nearby would prevent yet another frantic emergency room visit with Mom.
