Surviving the coma (pt 1)

NOT COVID-related...but it could be.

Once in awhile, life takes a turn. Those “turns” tend to come in waves. And for most of us, we get to plan or at least look forward to them (wedding, childbirth, career, etc). But there are other times when we never see it coming…

It was Sat, March 5, 2016. I had just spent the morning with some friends and by noon was headed back home. For whatever reason, I just had to lie down. Not one for napping, I sensed there was something ‘coming on.’ (Little did I know.)

By 4pm, I had awoken from my “nap,” went to the bathroom and came right back to bed. What is going on? I asked myself.

What in the world???

At 8pm, I woke up again and, remembering I had promised a friend that I would reach out to her, called and spoke with her for 15 minutes when I noticed a tickle in my throat. It wasn’t painful…just really annoying. Three minutes after the tickle began, I said, “I’m going to [clears throat] get off this phone [clears throat]. I need some tea [clears throat again].” (Anyone who knows me knows that tea and cheese is all I ever need to survive.) By this point I’m just irritated, but I knew that the tea would take care of the problem.

The tea didn’t solve my problem.

In fact, after sipping on just half a cup, I laid back down and was out like a light. In a most bizarre dream, I could hear a train coming through my bedroom. Being half in and out, I thought, But there’s no train nearby. Exhausted, I woke up struggling to breathe. That “train” was me wheezing! I should get to the ER…feels like my bronchitis is coming back. I fell back onto the bed, totally spent. The ER can wait. I’ll just sleep sitting up; I’ll breathe better. It was 4am.

Around 7am I mustered up the strength to drag myself out of bed, and, at a very slow pace, put on clothes and shoes. Should probably call 9-1-1, I thought, before remembering where I lived. They’ll never find me. (My address faced a wooded area and I was convinced the EMTs would never reach me in time. Apparently the oxygen was escaping my brain and I had lost all sense of reasoning.)

I somehow found my way out the door. I looked out over the 500-yard hike to my car and thought, Just stand here until someone leaves for church…you’ll be able to flag them down. I stood. And stood. And reason intervened, “Gurlll, these heathens don’t go nowhere on Sunday morning…you better get your butt in that car!” Also…who goes to church at 7am??

That was the beginning of a long-g-g-g journey home.

…And I hadn’t even reached the car.