A Surprisingly Beautiful Inhaler

February 18, 2025 - 2 minutes read - 414 words

I don’t remember exactly when I got diagnosed as an asthmatic. Some of my earliest core memories are going to a hospital for pneumonia: trundling into a van in the dark; returning home to Slidell and convalescing while watching “The Wizard of Oz” for the first time, a rubbery “Robbie the Robot” from “Lost in Space” in hand.¹ ² A few years later, on the cusp of Junior High, I would learn the diagnosis word “asthma,” start allergy shots, and begin a medicine regime (a super start to socially-awkward years!)

Since then, I’ve had a rescue inhaler prescription. I used the device less in Europe, even less in the Bay, and a tad bit more in NYC. Across the years, the brands and the actuator look-and-feel have changed, but I can say this: never have I seen a more beautiful inhaler than my current generic albuterol sulfate.

The design is clean and considered - it’s like Wes Anderson worked in pharma. It is, to quote the Old Man from A Christmas Story, “indescribably beautiful.“³

The Packaging

The package’s typeface is Helvetica Neue Bold, which works well for medical packaging: clear, no-nonsense. Black on white, it tells you what it is in an instant.

The black-on-white text provides good contrast for dosage information. As someone who suffered a bad dosing event, I appreciate clarity so that children aren’t given adult-grade doses.

Both of these bands of data are high-contrast and large-size. As someone who recently started using glasses for middle distances, I appreciate how easy it is to read.

The Actuator

The inhaler’s physical design is pleasantly straightforward. The blue cylinder and cap look clean and medical without being intimidating, while the embossed text serves as a backup if the label becomes damaged.

Also, there’s mirroring between the box and the device in the “dosage is on terracotta.”

It’s nice to see a medical device that’s simple to use and easy to read, especially when you might need it in a hurry.

Footnotes

Odd to think that that word pneumonia made such a deep impression; I still wince at the sound of it.
Kid toy marketing was nuts after the Kenner atom-bomb of “Star Wars” merchandising detonated. I’m sure this was a dollar bin TG&Y impulse-purchase for a sick kid.
RIP Darren McGavin
Quite a journey from the garish orange-and-yellow prescription inhalers of the 1980s or Mikey’s anxiety-inducing experience of trying to trigger a Primatene Mist puff correctly in The Goonies.