A Cough’s Tale: What happens if you leave a cough untreated?

Hello there, dear reader. I am Cough, or as the wise folks of Ayurveda affectionately call me, Kasa. I’ve often pondered why I’ve been bestowed with such a name, and it seems it’s due to my rather distinctive voice, one that can be likened to the sound of cracked bronze, known as “Kamsya.” But don’t be fooled by my name, for I am far from insignificant. In fact, if you were to rank diseases by extensiveness, I’d undoubtedly be near the top of the list, if not right at the pinnacle.

Let me introduce myself more intimately. I don’t always come alone; sometimes, I arrive with unwelcome companions. You see, I have a complex relationship with various other ailments like cold-coryza, asthma, and tuberculosis, to name a few. Unlike some sneaky diseases that strike in the shadows, my nature is quite the opposite. I make my entrance with flair, announcing my presence to all in the vicinity. At times, my voice is so sharp and harsh that it startles those around me, and sometimes, it’s so gentle that only the one possessed by me truly knows of my visit.

As for timing, there’s no set schedule for my arrival. I can show up anywhere, anytime, at my own sweet will. However, I do seem to pester more when the sun sets, which tends to irritate people. I understand, but I can’t help it; it’s just the way I am.

Sometimes, when I choose rather inconvenient moments to make my grand entrance, people try to shush me away. The more they try to suppress me, the more uncontrollable I become. It’s as if their efforts to silence me only make me more determined to be heard.

Now, let’s dive deep into the world of Ayurveda, where they classify me into five distinct types: Vataja, Pittaja, Kaphaja, Kshataja, and Kshayaja. However, for most people, I’m recognized in just two forms: dry cough and moist cough. In the former, there’s a lot of noise, but nothing substantial is produced. In the latter, phlegm makes an appearance during the coughing fits, and in some unfortunate cases, blood joins the party. This typically happens with Kshataja and Kshayaja Kasa, and even physicians give these two forms special attention.

Now, two more forms of mine are rather intriguing when it comes to treatment: the senile cough of old age and the whooping cough of childhood. It appears I have a soft spot for the elderly, as I tend to stick around with them until their journey’s end. Among children, I tend to visit those who haven’t had the triple antigen inoculation and whose parents might not provide them with the best care. Thankfully, I usually depart once the parents take note and intervene. I must admit; I do have a soft spot for the little ones.

You might think of me as your enemy due to the discomfort I bring, but in truth, I consider myself a friend and a sympathizer. When I approach you, it’s to clear obstructions in your respiratory tract, caused by both external factors like dust, smoke, and stray food particles, and internal factors like stubborn phlegm or semi-digested juices( Persistent cough in GERD). 

I arrive with a purpose, to cleanse and protect. Sometimes, I even act as an early warning system, alerting you to potential threats like tuberculosis, cancer, or pleurisy. If you heed my warnings, you might just avoid impending calamities. Ignore me, and, well, I can only hope that luck is on your side.

There are moments when you strain your throat with extended periods of loud speaking, or when you exhaust yourself beyond your limits. It’s in these instances that I come to your aid, obliging you to rest and recuperate. So, ask yourself, am I truly an enemy, or am I a guardian, albeit an unconventional one?

Now, you might be wondering how an ordinary ailment like mine, one of the many in the vast realm of diseases, can perform such important tasks. What you may not realize is that when dust, smoke, bacteria, and infections invade your respiratory tract, they disrupt the crucial task of oxygen exchange within your body. I step in to help your Pranavayu and Udanavayu, the vital life forces, expel these intruders from your respiratory tract with sheer force. The resulting noise is a natural consequence of this struggle. Think of it like labourers working with determination, shouting “zor laga ke haiyya!” (put in your best effort). It’s a similar scenario with Pranavayu and Udanavayu, each trying to spur the other on in their quest to expel foreign invaders. Ayurvedic practitioners liken this noise to the sound of broken bronze, a cacophony of “Khon-Khon” and “Thon-Thon.”

Rest assured, I won’t arrive unannounced. Before I make my grand entrance, I provide subtle warnings. Dryness in the throat, a delicate pricking sensation, mild pain, or slight difficulty in swallowing—these are the signs that should alert you to my impending arrival. If you ignore these premonitions, well, that’s not on me.

Sometimes, as soon as I appear, you might frown and start reaching for powders, tablets, and syrups, all in an attempt to get rid of me. But let me tell you, there’s a right way to handle me, and this isn’t it. Allow me some time to tell my story before taking drastic measures.

Before you act, it’s crucial to understand the purpose of my visit. If you can’t discern it, consult a competent physician who can diagnose correctly and unveil the secrets I carry with me.

Controlling me, you see, is a bit like handling delicate matters in a relationship. You need to understand my weak spots, the places where I hide within your body. I suppose it’s quite unconventional for me to reveal my vulnerabilities, but here goes. My weaknesses lie in your brain (specifically, the center of cough in the medulla oblongata), your throat, your chest, and your lungs. Control and purify these areas, and you’ll find me far easier to manage. Of course, you’ll need proper guidance to do so, or you might be led astray once more.

So, I hope you’ll never neglect me again and that you won’t consider me just another ordinary ailment. Farewell for now, and remember, I may be a source of discomfort, but I’m also a messenger with a purpose, always urging you to protect and preserve your well-being.

Yours Truly,

Cough