I awakened in the middle of the night with an old, familiar feeling–tight chest and coughing. I hadn’t experienced that in years. The evening had been wonderful. We’d attended a major-league baseball game and our home team had a resounding victory. Then, it hit me. I had been digging deeper into my mysterious past, and had been realizing ever-so-much-more acutely how traumatic things had been–chronically traumatic for years on end. Puzzle pieces keep falling together, and every day now seems to bring another revelation. Was there–IS there–a correlation between my kind of childhood trauma, my terrible childhood asthma, and all of the auto-immune weirdness that had hit me as an adult? Indeed there is. And indeed, I was well aware of how it had played out among the students in my classroom year after year.
We have the studies. We have the numbers on national cost. I have my memories and my own personal, observational evidence.