You will never forget your first asthma attack. The sensation of your chest tightening and every breath turning into a wheezing, desperate effort can trigger a deep and intense panic within you. For the vast majority of individuals, an asthma attack can be managed within a matter of minutes when one has a trusted rescue inhaler. But what happens when an asthma attack becomes unmanageable? What happens when the attack not only continues, but escalates into a full-blown and potentially life-threatening medical emergency?
This is the frightening condition of status asthmaticus. Simply put, it represents a severe asthma attack that remains unresponsive to standard first-line treatments in emergency care, such as a fast-acting bronchodilator. It is the clinical diagnosis of an episode that results in a patient arriving at a hospital emergency room fighting for each breath.
The procedures that happen in the United States to treat this critical condition involve some of the most advanced medical technology with the best educated and skilled healthcare professionals. It includes a systematic and high-stakes set of protocols in ambulances, emergency departments, and intensive care units all across America every day. Knowing the elements of this treatment process is not about just simple medical knowledge, it is about understanding a complex coordinated effort to saving a life. The treatment process consists of orderly, methodical steps from a simple intervention to the most advanced respiratory life support, based on an understanding of respiratory physiology.
It all starts outside the hospital. Status asthmaticus doesn't appear out of the blue; it's typically the catastrophic escalation of a more common asthma exacerbation. The key to preventing the worst outcomes is early recognition. Patients and their families are coached to look for the warning signs that things are going south fast. It's not just about wheezing; it's the inability to speak in full sentences, the bluish tint around the lips (cyanosis), the visible sucking in of the skin between the ribs and above the collarbone with each breath (retractions), and a terrifying sense of dread. And most crucially, it's the fact that the rescue inhaler—usually albuterol—isn't providing relief, or its effect is vanishingly short-lived.
This is the moment to call 911, without hesitation. In the U.S., this activates the emergency medical system, and the first phase of treatment begins the second paramedics arrive. They don't just provide a ride; they initiate critical care. They'll administer oxygen through a mask to combat dangerously low oxygen levels in the blood. They'll give repeated doses of nebulized albuterol, a mist form of the bronchodilator that can be more effective during an extreme attack. Often, they'll also administer a corticosteroid, like methylprednisolone, right there on the spot. The goal is to start fighting the inflammation at its source as early as possible. They'll also connect the patient to a pulse oximeter to monitor blood oxygen saturation, providing vital data to the team waiting at the hospital.
The path to status asthmaticus rarely happens overnight. Emergency physicians who have evaluated countless patients describe a pattern that develops when speaking with the patient and their family following the emergency. Chiefly, patients are not taking their daily controller medications—some patients have skipped their daily medication, often for weeks or months, believing they are fine without their medications. It is a dangerous gamble as an inflammatory process is building in the patient's airways, like kindling waiting for a spark.
Viral respiratory infections are common triggers, especially during flu season. What starts as an ordinary cold, can progress to a disastrous circumstance for someone whose baseline asthma control is tenuous. Environmental factors also have role; sudden weather changes, exposure to known allergens such as pet dander, or dust mites, as well as irritants such as heavy perfumes or cleaning products, can all take their toll. Emotional and physical stress can be the proverbial straw that breaks the camel's back.
Dr. Sarah Martinez, who has practiced emergency medicine in Chicago for fifteen years recalls one case in particular that still haunts her from her residency years. A twelve-year-old girl had been brought in by her frantic mother, following what was supposed to be a normal school day, but turned tragic following exposure to fresh paint in the recently renovated classroom. In a matter of hours, what was mild coughing, progressed to rapid respiratory distress.
"Her mother kept saying she'd never seen anything like it," Dr. Martinez remembers. "The child went from playing at recess to fighting for her life in less than six hours."
One aspect that medical textbooks barely touch on is the psychological component of status asthmaticus. The sensation of suffocation triggers primal fear responses that can actually worsen the physical symptoms. Adrenaline floods the body, racing the heart and tensing the muscles, exactly when oxygen is most deficient and is needed most.
Experienced paramedics understand this process very well; there's an added dimension beyond medical experience for them; they also are trained to communicate effectively in crisis situations. Sometimes a calm, assured presence is sufficient to prevent an acute episode from progressing to a critical event.
"We learned long ago as paramedics that how we communicate with patients is as important as the medication that we give," says Marcus Thompson, an experienced EMT from Houston. "Panic perpetuates itself. If we can break that cycle, then we can sometimes buy valuable time for the medications to be effective."
Family members are often struggling with their own panic. They've witnessed their loved one successfully use their rescue inhaler dozens of times prior to that moment and now it's suddenly not working. It's the painfully obvious helplessness of realizing that this time is different—dangerously different. Emergency dispatchers are trained to keep family members on the line to talk them through every step until help arrives.
Upon arrival at the ED, the process is urgent and systematic. This is when the protocol is most standardized: evidence-based guidelines that every emergency physician knows by heart. The acute assessment is rapid—listen to the lungs, assess vital signs, assess the patient's awareness of themselves and level of fatigue. In fact, a quiet, tired chest can sometimes be worse than a loud wheezer, indicating that the patient did not have enough energy to move air.
The treatment in the ED is aggressive and multimodal. We're going to hit it from all possible directions:
If the patient is still not responding, the arsenal expands. Magnesium sulfate is a common next step. Given IV over 20-30 minutes, it acts as a smooth muscle relaxant, helping to ease the constriction of the bronchial tubes. It's a well-established, effective treatment for severe attacks.
Another powerful tool is epinephrine. Yes, the same drug in an EpiPen for allergic reactions. It can be given as a subcutaneous injection (under the skin) and is a potent bronchodilator. Its use is a clear signal that the team is pulling out all the stops, though it's used with caution due to potential side effects like increased heart rate.
Throughout this process, the medical team is constantly re-evaluating. Blood may be drawn to check for signs of infection or to measure blood gases, which gives a detailed picture of how well the lungs are oxygenating the blood and clearing carbon dioxide—a key indicator of respiratory failure.
What often separates truly outstanding emergency physicians from average or competent ones is the ability to identify subtle realities of patients' presentations that we aren't taught in textbooks and derive deep meaning from them. Dr. Michael Chen, who is the Head of Emergency Medicine at a prominent Boston teaching hospital, equips us with a term for this practice, explaining, "listening with your eyes."
"You also observe how patients situate themselves," he continues, "a patient in extremis is often sitting up, leaning forward with their hands on their knees - that is the tripod position and they are basically trying to use every accessory muscle they can to breathe. If you see a patient who cannot lie back on the stretcher because they must stay sitting up, then you immediately know - it is bad."
The trained eye also picks up on changes in speech. Early in the attack, patients might speak in short sentences. As things worsen, it becomes single words, then just nodding or shaking their head. "When someone can only mouth 'help' without making sound, you know their reserves are nearly gone," Dr. Chen adds.
Nursing staff play a crucial role in this assessment process. Emergency nurses often spend more continuous time with patients than physicians, who must divide their attention among multiple critical cases. Veteran nurses develop an almost intuitive sense for when a patient is beginning to tire.
"You see it in their eyes first," notes Rebecca Foster, a charge nurse with twenty years of ER experience. "There's this moment when the fight starts to go out of them. That's when you know it's time to call the doctor back immediately."
Modern emergency departments deploy sophisticated monitoring systems that would have seemed like science fiction just decades ago. Though continuous pulse oximetry can provide real-time feedback about blood oxygen levels, an experienced clinician is aware of the limitations of technology. During severe asthmatic attacks, poor circulation to the extremities can make pulse oximeters unreliable. Sometimes the best monitor is still the human eye—looking for cyanosis around the lips and nail beds.
The peak flow meter, a simple device that measures how hard someone can blow air out of his lungs, also provides objective data about airway obstruction. With patients in severe distress, however, they may not be able to cooperate with the test. As respiratory therapist Janet Williams states, "We use peak flow when we can get it, but sometimes patients are working so hard to breathe that it's almost rude to ask them to blow into a tube."
Blood gas analysis remains the gold standard for understanding the severity of respiratory failure. A small amount of blood taken from an arterial puncture will provide objective values for oxygen and carbon dioxide levels and acid-base status. When the carbon dioxide level increases despite aggressive treatments, it is a sign that respiratory failure will occur soon.
Chest X-rays are routinely obtained, though they frequently look remarkably normal in status asthmaticus. "People expect to see dramatic changes on the X-ray." Dr. Chen states, "But asthma is primarily a disease of the very small airways, and those do not show up well on plain film X-rays. We focus more on complications- pneumonia, pneumothorax, or signs of cardiac strain."
One of the hardest things about emergency medicine is triaging- when multiple emergencies show up at the same time, how do you know who needs to be seen first? Status asthmaticus is especially difficult, as patients can decline rapidly, sometimes in a matter of minutes.
Dr. Angela Rodriguez, an emergency physician in Phoenix, recalls a night when three patients with status asthma presented in the ER, within an hour of each other. "We had one patient in respiratory arrest needing immediate intubation, one who was responding excellent to nebulizers, and one whom had very poor yet stable appearance- that sick look that makes you nervous. It is those decisions that keep you up at night deciding how to clone yourself."
The economic ramification also weighs heavy in emergency medicine. Many patients delay presenting to the ER because of expense concerns, especially the uninsured or high-deductible plans. "We see people who have been struggling at home for hours with every over-the-counter medication they could think of," Dr. Rodriguez notes. "By the time they come in, they are way sicker than what they knew they could have been. The cost of prevention is always less than the cost of crisis, but that is not how our system is set up."
After everything done in the ER, some patients still decompensate. Their breathing muscles will tire out. Dangerous levels of carbon dioxide accumulate in their blood- respiratory acidosis. This is an absolute breaking point for status asthmaticus.
When a patient can no longer maintain the work of breathing independently, the only story of action is to take over that work for them, which means mechanical ventilation- or to put the patient on a breathing machine. That is not a decision made lightly. Intubating a patient with severe asthma is one of the most dangerous procedures in emergency medicine. The airways are extremely reactive and they may tighten down even more with stimulation of a breathing tube, which can lead to cardiac arrest.
Certain conditions around the procedure require it to be completed by the experienced physician available, usually an anesthesiologist or critical care intensivist. They will probably rapidly sedate the patient and provide a paralytic agent to temporarily paralyze muscles in order to perform the procedure safely.
Once on the ventilator, the strategy shifts dramatically. The goal is no longer to force the airways open against their will, but to provide rest and support while the corticosteroids and other medications have time to work their magic on the inflammation. This is a delicate balancing act known as "controlled hypoventilation" or permissive hypercapnia. The ventilator is set to allow the high levels of carbon dioxide to gradually decrease over many hours rather than trying to normalize them instantly, which can cause further lung injury. The patient is kept deeply sedated, and sometimes paralyzed, to prevent them from "fighting" the ventilator.
In the most extreme cases, where standard ventilation is too dangerous or ineffective, even more advanced techniques come into play. Heliox, a mixture of helium and oxygen, can be used. Because helium is much less dense than nitrogen, it can flow through narrowed airways more easily, reducing the effort of breathing and improving gas delivery until medications can work.
Inhaled anesthetic agents, like sevoflurane, are occasionally used in the ICU. These powerful gases, more commonly associated with surgery, can produce profound bronchodilation in patients who have not responded to anything else.
The intensive care unit is the highest level of medicine, but for families it can be a foreign world of machines, monitors, and medical jargon that appears designed to keep them out. Transitioning from an emergency department to an ICU is a transition from acute intervention to prolonged life-support, a marathon instead of a sprint.
Dr. Patricia Kim, a pulmonary and critical care physician at a major academic medical center, describes the approach to status asthmaticus in the ICU as "controlled patience." Unlike the pace of rapid intervention in an emergency department, the ICU requires a different set of circumspection.
"We're basically buying time," Dr. Kim notes. "The inflammatory process that brought them to the ICU didn't happen that day, and it won't resolve in a day. Our job is to keep them alive, keep them comfortable while their body heals."
The psychological weight for families during this phase of the hospital experience can be hard-hitting. Parents that see their child on a ventilator, spouses that see their partner unconscious surrounded by machines- these images become engrained in their memory. ICU social workers and chaplains become pivotal team members, assisting families make sense of the medical complexities and also address their emotional reaction to trauma.
"I tell families the machines are not fighting their loved one, they are fighting for them." Patricia Davis, an ICU nurse manager notes. "The ventilator is breathing for that patient so there respiratory muscles can relax." The sedation does not keep them unconscious, but rather, keeps them comfortable as we work. That said, those can be difficult concepts to wrap your head around when you see someone you love in such a vulnerable state."
Ventilating an asthmatic patient requires a basic understanding of abnormal respiratory mechanics. Healthy lungs are more pliable and expand and recoil easily; asthmatic airways are more like narrow straws where air travels in slowly and even more slowly travels back out. This phenomenon is known as air trapping, and it can result in excessive overinflation of the lungs.
Respiratory therapists, who are often the unsung heroes of the ICU, become key players in managing these complicated situations, adjusting the ventilator settings dozens of times a day based on the patient's condition.
"Every asthmatic is different," says David Park, senior respiratory therapist. "Some take high pressures to get air in; some take longer to breathe out in to get air out. Half of it is science where you're looking at the data, half of it is art in the sense that you're paying careful attention."
The ventilator strategies in status asthmaticus often seem counterintuitive to those unfamiliar with the condition. The team will not normalize the blood gases immediately but will accept carbon dioxide levels higher than the normal acceptable range, a method called permissive hypercapnia. By accepting higher levels of carbon dioxide, it minimizes the risk of over-inflation from dangerous pressures while still adequately providing oxygen.
Modern ICUs utilize sophisticated ventilators that can be considered computerized machines highly capable of making adjustments from breath to breath, but they still rely on human intuition and thinking. "The machine can show us the pressures, but we cannot see if the patient is comfortable," Dr. Kim reminds us to think critically.
ICU patients in status asthmaticus face a wide array of possible complications developing from adequate respiratory failure. Mechanical ventilation can be agonizing and prolonged, greatly increasing the risk of ventilator-associated pneumonia—serious infection of the lungs and airways not affording them proper recovery time. Deep vein thrombosis and embolism are also frequently a big concern with patients lying in bed for days or even weeks at a time.
Possibly the biggest challenges are often psychological complications that can become an issue when the patient gains consciousness. Patients who can recover sleep-wake cycles are very often highly deranged and confused due to ICU delirium, hallucinations, and agitation due to delirium while also being on a ventilator for extended periods.
"They might not remember anything about getting sick," explains Dr. Kim, "but they wake up intubated in a strange place, with no memory of how they got there. That's terrifying."
Some patients develop what ICU staff call "ventilator dependence"—not from physical inability to breathe independently, but from psychological fear of having the machine removed. "We've had patients who are clearly ready to breathe on their own but panic every time we mention taking the tube out," observes respiratory therapist Park. "It becomes as much a mental challenge as a physical one."
For the most critically ill patients, standard ICU care sometimes isn't sufficient. This is when medical teams turn to experimental or rarely used interventions that push the boundaries of current medicine.
Extracorporeal membrane oxygenation (ECMO), essentially an artificial lung that takes blood out of the body, oxygenates it, and returns it to circulation, has been used in the most desperate cases. "ECMO for asthma is like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut," admits Dr. Robert Anderson, who directs the ECMO program at a major children's hospital. "But when that nut is all that stands between a child and death, you use the sledgehammer. We've had patients who survived because ECMO gave their lungs the rest they needed to recover from the most severe inflammation."
Inhaled anesthetic gases, borrowed from the operating room, occasionally find their way into the ICU for refractory cases. These potent bronchodilators can open airways that haven't responded to any other treatment, but they require specialized equipment and expertise to use safely. "It's not something we do lightly," explains Dr. Kim. "But sometimes it's the difference between life and death."
The turnaround from status asthmaticus is often dramatic, but it's not quick. Once the inflammatory fire is finally put out, the focus turns to "weaning"—slowly reducing the ventilator support as the patient's own strength and lung function return. The breathing tube is removed (extubation), and the patient is transitioned from IV medications back to their inhalers.
But the treatment doesn't end at discharge. A brush with status asthmaticus is a major red flag. It means a patient's underlying asthma is severely uncontrolled. Therefore, a huge part of the treatment paradigm in the U.S. is focused on prevention and long-term management.
Before discharge, a patient will meet with educators, respiratory therapists, and their doctors to create a comprehensive Asthma Action Plan. They will be prescribed controller medications, almost always including Inhaled Corticosteroids (ICS), which must be taken daily to prevent inflammation from building up in the first place. They might be referred to a pulmonologist or an allergist for specialized testing and management.
The social determinants of health also play a massive role. Follow-up care is only possible if a patient has access to it. The high cost of medications, lack of insurance, transportation issues, and health literacy can all be barriers to effective long-term control. The best emergency treatment in the world is a temporary fix if a patient cannot afford their inhaler a month later. Recognizing this, many health systems now have asthma clinics and community health workers who help bridge this gap, ensuring that the life-saving work started in the ICU isn't undone by socioeconomic challenges.
Surviving status asthmaticus leaves invisible scars that extend far beyond physical recovery. Post-traumatic stress disorder is surprisingly common among survivors of severe medical crises, particularly those who required mechanical ventilation. Patients can grapple with the recollection of choking, the fright of losing control of their bodies, and the fragility of total reliance on machines even once their lungs have healed.
Dr. Jennifer Walsh is a psychiatrist who specializes in medical trauma and works with many survivors of status asthmaticus. "They definitely develop 'respiratory anxiety,' as we call it," Dr. Walsh explains. "They become hypervigilant about their breathing, obsessively monitor their peak flows, and often carry multiple rescue inhalers with them wherever they go. Some have panic attacks simply from anything that reminds them of their hospital experience."
Children surviving status asthmaticus have unique challenges. They may show signs of regression in their development and often show clingier behavior and fearfulness. Their ability to perform in school is often hampered by concentration-only problems due to anxiety around being away from parents. "We've had kids refuse to go to sleepovers or summer camp out of fear of having an attack when their parents aren't there," pediatric pulmonologist Dr. Sarah Martinez notes.
Family members also aren't excluded from these psychological after-effects. Almost universally, parents seem to become overprotective and limit a child's activities beyond what would be considered medically necessary. Spouses may also develop their own anxiety disorder around the asthmatic partner and worry constantly about their partner's breathing.
"The family dynamic becomes disrupted," describes medical social worker Lisa Chen. "Healing is not as simple as healing the patient; it is about helping everyone regain trust that life can return to normal."
The economic impact of status asthmaticus goes far beyond immediate medical expenses. An average stay in the ICU for severe asthma can easily cost $50,000 and peaking at $100,000 or more depending on length of stay and any complications. For patients without insurance, these expenses can be financially ruinous and lasting debt and even medical bankruptcy can come out of a single hospitalization.
Equally concerning are connections between economic status and asthma outcomes. Low-income patients are more likely to experience status asthmaticus, more likely to require ICU care, and more likely to have poor outcomes. Environmental factors—living in areas with poor air quality, older housing with mold and pest problems, inability to avoid occupational exposures—all contribute to worse asthma control in disadvantaged communities.
"We see the same patients coming back again and again," observes emergency physician Dr. Rodriguez. "Their controller medications are too expensive for them to utilize, so they only use their rescue inhalers. They live in triggered environments and cannot afford to move. They have jobs without sick leave, which prevents them from taking time off to get better. It is a cycle."
According to health economists, if looked at comprehensively, the costs of implementing asthma management programs that offer their medications for free, have community health workers visit homes, provide interventions to reduce allergen triggers, actually save money in terms of hospitalizations after the upfront costs. However, that requires investment in the upfront piece that the health system does not make.
Arguably the most significant up and coming innovation of asthma care has been community health worker programs. These are trained people from the same community of the patients they serve, who help to bridge the gap between discharge from the hostipal, and chronic disease management.
Maria Santos, a community health worker in Los Angeles, works with families in their home after a visit to the hospital for status asthmaticus. "I help them understand their medications, help them identify triggers in their environment and connect them with resources," Santos says. "Sometimes, it is as simple as helping them obsain insurance to cover their inhalers. Other times it is a bigger lift where I help them communicate with landlords who cannot fix mold, or connect them with training to make a change from a work environment that trigger their asthma."
The results of these programs have been impressive. Hospitals with robust community health worker programs report significant reductions in asthma readmissions and emergency department visits. Patients express higher satisfaction with their care and better understanding of their condition.
"It's not rocket science," notes Dr. Anderson. "People do better when they have support, when someone checks on them, when they have help navigating a complex healthcare system."
Modern technology offers new tools for asthma management that were unimaginable just a few years ago. Smart inhalers that track when medications are used (or not used) provide objective data about medication compliance. Environmental sensors can monitor air quality in patients' homes, alerting them to conditions that might trigger an attack.
Telemedicine has become particularly valuable for asthma management, especially for patients in rural areas who might live hours away from a specialist. "Pediatricians and other specialists can evaluate peak flow readings, modify pharmaceuticals, and offer education without patients using vacation time, asking someone to care for their children for a clinic visit, or being impacted by some other time-consuming aspect of the visit," says pulmonologist Dr. Kim.
Smartphone apps that allow patients to track what is going on with their symptoms, what triggers are relevant, and even reminders to take medications have been shown to improve asthma control. Other apps utilize artificial intelligence to examine trends in a patient's data and predict when they might be at increased risk for an exacerbation.
Technology-based resources also reflect digital divides in treating asthma. Patients who do not own a smartphone or lack a reliable internet connection cannot reap the benefits of the technology, and the digital divide creates, rather than mitigates, health disparities.
The treatment of status asthmaticus in the United States is a parable of two stories. On the one hand, it underscores American medical innovation in all its glory. Patients may have access to state-of-the-art ICUs, modern ventilators, new therapeutic agents, and some of the world's best pulmonologists, intensivists, and emergency service professionals. Protocols are evidence-based and are performed by rigorous teams of highly trained professionals.
On the other hand, it underscores the types of profound disparities in the American healthcare system, as universal access to care is not guaranteed. Accessibility hinges on factors such as insurance status, geographic distance (particularly in rural areas where the closest ICU could be hours away), and social determinants that could influence both the likelihood of developing severe symptoms, but also behaviors that support asthma management strategies.
Prevention of status asthmaticus is not only better, but also cheaper than treatment; however, prevention requires a strong, accessible primary-care infrastructure, which many patients do not have.
Rural America faces unique challenges related to the treatment of status asthmaticus. Most small hospitals have no intensive care unit and critically ill patients must be transferred to a regional center—which may require ground transport or air transport via helicopter or fixed wing aircraft. The air travel can take hours, and the transfer is weather-dependent; these realities place the rural emergency physician in a position of making potentially life-and-death decisions.
Dr. Michael Thompson works in a critical access hospital in rural Montana, cares for patients who inhabit thousands of square miles. "When someone comes in with status asthmaticus, I have to make, arguably, some of the hardest decisions in medicine. Do I intubate them here, knowing that I do not have access to specialized equipment or back up, as they do in the city? Or do I try and stabilize them and arrange for transport, knowing that it could take two hours to get them to the nearest intensive care unit, if the weather cooperates?"
Rural EMT's and paramedics face a similar challenge when they have to transport a patient for a long period to the nearest hospital. Many rural ambulance services have purchased continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP), machines that can in some cases minimize the need for intubation by providing Breathing assistance to patients during transport.
Some rural hospital finances are under pressure as well. Most Rural Hospitals are in financially troubled positions and lack the resources to maintain this type of capability. The closure of a rural hospital can lead to a community that is several hundred miles from its nearest access to emergency care.
Urban hospitals confront different yet substantial challenges. Large city hospitals often fill the role of safety nets for sizeable populations of uninsured and underinsured patients. They may witness dozens of patients during one night with exacerbated asthma that extend their resources and capacity to the extremes.
"During respiratory virus season, we may have all of the ventilators in the hospital occupied," states Dr. Chen from Boston. "We have had to create hospital transfers in order to find an ICU-bed for a patient or several patients, sometimes hundreds of miles away. It becomes a problem of managing our region as a resource."
Urban hospitals deal with the intersection of asthma and multiple comorbid health conditions. Many inner-city patients have several chronic diseases—such as diabetes, hypertension or obesity—that can have implications for asthma treatment and recovery. Mental health problems, substance use, and social determinants such as housing instability, are all factors in treatment response.
The medical experts concentrated in urban centers has created its own disparities. A patient in Manhattan has access to well-known specialists & experimental treatments while a person does not get care from a pulmonologist in rural Mississippi.
Continuing medical research will enhance and continue to refine our knowledge of asthma, and treatment options. Biologic medications—highly targeted therapies that interrupt specific pathways of inflammation–have truly advanced the care of patients with severe and difficult-to-manage asthma. The treatments are injected every weeks to every months and can have dramatic effects on the frequency and severity of asthma attacks.
"We are moving toward a more personalized (or precision) medicine approach to treatment in asthma,' Dr. Anderson says. While we used to think about treating everyone the same, we are learning to determine the individual patients who respond to which treatments based on their inflammatory patterns, genetic markers, and environmental exposures."
The very basic conceptual understanding of what asthma research is evolving. Researchers are currently investigating the microbiome; the large number of bacteria and other microorganisms that inhabit our bodies - in relation to developing and the severity of asthma. We also have been noticing what seems to be associated with early life exposures; infant antibiotic use and whether they were born via cesarean section and how these exposures would affect risk for developing asthma, and we don't seem to quite understand how these exposures would increase asthma risk at this time.
Meanwhile, there appears to be an acceptance of utilizing environmental interventions as an effective component in the management of asthma. Programs that provide families with housing interventions to reduce allergens and irritants, mitigate indoor air quality, and avoid weathering outdoor pollution exposure at high risk on bad air days, have all demonstrated a reduction in severe exacerbations.
One possible area that may be future of asthma treatment includes areas of precision medicine - treatment that is designed for a particular patient based on the individual characteristics of the patient. Researchers are looking to figure out a way to test for inflammatory patterns of irritation in a patient's airways for the physician to be able to make treatment decisions as part of the first visit, rather than put patient through
Genetic testing is beginning to help identify the reasons patients can have severe, life-threatening asthma attacks while others might have mild attacks. Ultimately, this work may progress to gene therapy or other very precise therapies that target the disease as opposed to simply treating for symptom control.
"Twenty years from now, status asthmaticus will be mostly not even an event," Dr. Kim believes. "We are learning how to identify patients who are not only at high risk, but engage them prior to the crisis point. The key is taking discoveries from research and creating tools that will be used in everyday practice."
Ultimately, treating status asthmaticus is a neurological journey from the precipice of a physiological cliff to stabilization. It is a coordinated concert of emergency personnel, nurses, respiratory therapists, emergency physicians, intensivists, and clinical pharmacists. It is a dogged scaffolding of scientific method coupled with emulation of human compassion. And it is, for the fortunate survivor, a reflective experience—one that is not just a somber reflection of the intensity of their illness, but a jarring provocation to devote themselves to the difficult, daily management that would allow them to never have to retrace that unfathomable fear of feeling their life ebb on the precipice of status asthmaticus.
The trajectory of status asthmaticus in America equally represents both the best and the worst of medicine and healthcare. The story illustrates remarkable demonstration of medical ingenuity, complexity of problem solving when life is hanging in the balance, and a primal inspiration of the participation of the healthcare professionals. At the same time, there are ongoing disparities to deeply appreciate who gets ill, and then who survives and thrives.
To look forward, lessons learned from the most ill of patients with status asthmaticus will continue to reaffirm opportunities of care to closer cousins of patients needing to save their loved one from this serious lung illness. With each crisis, improvement will not only be protocol and process, outcome variation will be success, and a measure of success will be that families won't have to see a member have this much struggle for coordinated breath.
The battle against status asthmaticus has just begun. It is evolving and while not yet refined, appears to be moving in a forward progress of increased sophistication, compassion, and hope. For every patient that is discharged to a non-ICU respiratory status to home there is a successful medical journey along with an acknowledgment of human resilience amid systems of coordinated care during distressing and alarming times.