Hic Sepultus -"Here is buried..." - Truth, Meaning, and a Very Dead Sense of Humor

trait snapshot:
introverted, irritable, feels invisible, observer, depressed, does not enjoy leadership, reveals little about self, dislikes large parties, feels undesirable, does not like to stand out, submissive, suspicious, emotionally sensitive, not a thrill seeker, solitude loving, likes silence, fragile, second guesses self, negative, unadventurous, fearful, weird, focuses on people's hidden motives, paranoid, phobic, dependent, cautious, avoidant, semi intellectual

I feel very sad. This is not the person I want to be. :(

Well, on with my life. Thank God, I have still have one.

Well, if you really want to know... :)
I bloated up like a balloon on the outside. By the time the allergy attack subsided, I looked like a roasted lobster.

Over 3 hour period:

1) I started feeling a slight swelling and itchiness in my throat and mouth. Wisely, I stopped eating the waffle.

2) Stomach cramps begin. I didn't know it then, but it was probably my body trying to tell me something, which I disregarded.

3) My face became hot and felt stretched. Lips, nose, and eyes swelled. Burnt marshallow at this point.

4) I couldn't breathe. The medicine was making my heart thump like an automatic drum set to 2-second intervals. My insides felt fried, swollen, and generally inflamed.

5) I took the Epi-pen, curled into a fetal position looking like a sausage link, and prepared to die.

6) My mom called 911. A few men came in my bedroom (no, this wasn't a fantasy) and escorted me downstairs. By the time they arrived I was already feeling much better.

7) Snatches of conversation sprinkled the freezing air around me. The men said something about how my case was a "carbon copy of the previous patient." Flashbacks of F451, no?

8) After the ride was half-over, I was able to open my eyes and look around. There was a graph to the right of me, telling me I was still alive. Reassured, I settled down more comfortably. I hoped the paramedics didn't expect me to be a brilliant conversationalist with a nebulizer tube in my mouth.

9) The stretcher was lowered to the ground, and I had enough presence of mind to remark that I felt like a load on groceries on a shopping cart. The man laughed, and I was in the hospital, probably the healthiest patient they had seen in a long time.

It seems interesting to examine now, but when I was actually experiencing it, I was pretty messed up.

Just think, Joy, I might have gone bye-bye and no one would post random things on their blogs anymore. :)

Posted by ceterumcenseo on Tuesday, December 28, 2004 at 9:03 PM | Permalink