I wish I could have taken a picture of the machine, but I was never alone in the room with it, and I wasn’t brave enough to ask the technician if I could take a quick picture. The test consisted of me breathing into a tube. I would breath slow, then fast. Shallow, then deep. Then hold my breath. Then empty out all the air I could possibly squeeze from my lungs, then quickly inhale. The machine measured, resisted, pumped gasses into my lungs, and sucked them out. It was most certainly less relaxing than an ultrasound or MRI.

But the results were pleasing: The woman said: “You move air wonderfully, no matter how it’s measured. Are you a runner? Do you swim?” I told her that I sing. Who knew singing could be so good for your lungs? I have healthy lungs! Yay! But I still don’t know if there is a physical reason I’m so tired. Maybe the blood results will show something. Or maybe it’s just stress.