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MISSILE FUCKING AVOIDED!!!!!!
11 months ago
Oh my god, for everyone who's ever said that today was their worst day, you've not lived the day I just had.
At around midnight, I had the “genius idea” to try and cough out a little bit of stuff in my throat. I have been feeling kind of sick throughout the last couple weeks, having difficulty breathing and all that. I figured it was just the turn of the seasons, that's how it always seems to happen. What I didn't know is that in the next 5 hours this would become even worse. It felt like my lungs were clogging up, becoming saturated with mucus or whatever, to where I was left with literally what felt like, a quarter of my original lung capacity. Using my asthma inhaler didn't seem to do any good, even after using 20 shots of it in 5 hours cuz my brain only knew this as a cure, and so it kept trying to make it be the cure.
My dad, who had been hearing me having these problems all night, woke up extra early and made the offer that we would probably go to the hospital. I didn't want to, considering that when mom went to the hospital they didn't help her too much because of staffing switching, and I was starting to get a little bit better so I thought I could just wait. Maybe use some NyQuil. Eventually, he decided that we were going. All he needed to do was eat a bowl of cream of wheat, while I got dressed.
This was torture.
Walking from the living room to my room, completely winded me. Every article of clothing that I had to put on, switching from pajamas to my day clothes, every step exhausted me. And my breathing was getting worse, I literally felt it shrinking. By the time I was nearly ready to go, it felt like I was breathing in a teaspoon of air and immediately breathing it out. Because albuterol, plus stress about what's going on so suddenly, and terrible memories of how quickly my own mother took a nosedive and ended up passing away something that seemed similar, makes your heart race, I was pretty much hyperventilating, and only able to say a word or two before I needed to take a breath again. And, remember, this whole time I'm starting to suffer from hypoxia, that is where my brain doesn't have enough oxygen. I can barely think of anything, except for getting out of the house and into the car, doing so while I still had enough air in my lungs to do so, and trying to slow my breathing down. What probably took two or four minutes tops, seem to stretch on to eternity. I was struggling to breathe, and my dad was helping me along, all the time I'm thinking about what would happen if I was to die in front of him. What would he do? He can't do everything he needs for his many different projects on his own. And I thought about my friends who I have here online, what would they do? How would they react if they heard I passed away? How awful would they feel? And all this time, I'm realizing in my brain that I don't have the breath to say anything, or even type anything as a kind of goodbye message or anything. But I do manage to get myself into the car, and Dad drives me to the hospital. All this time I'm just holding on to the door and the middle console, trying to slow my breathing down because it's going a mile a minute.
We get there, and dad goes in to get a wheelchair for me. I am very grateful that he was able to do so, because I would not make it out this day out the short walkway to get inside. No question. Get in through emergency, taped up, then with a mask feeding me air and other stuff to help my lungs loosen up and start to give me more air. Over the next 3 hours, I start to feel normal again.
And, turns out the reason for this is….. cause I have asthma and I managed to catch COVID….. hooray….
So now I am back at home, breathing relatively well, and I'm going to pick up some prescriptions later. But as for now, I'm going to get some rest. I deserve it for beating the odds and coming so damn close to death. And I just felt so guilty about all the stuff that was left undone…
Thankfully…. I still have my life ahead of me. And needless to say, I am working on a rough will of sorts so everything is organized in the case of slow oxygen depletion as if the universe realized I was trying to get to the hospital and it sped the process up so quickly, I thought I'd die before getting out of the door.
So people, whatever stress, or problems you're having in your life… I imagine it doesn't come close to the night I had. Life is good, please, use it well.
Addendum:
This was written when I had just gotten back. I got my medicine and some rest. Chest hurts, feels clogged, but I can live with this for the time being. And you can BET that if I start to go down hill again, I'm going right to the hospital before this spirals out of control! It just went from "I am breathing, but I can only use 1/4 of my lungs" to "I CAN ONLY BREATHE A TEASPOON AT A TIME, I'M GONNA DIE! I CAN'T DIE NOW! I HAVE TOO MUCH TO DO! AND MY FRIENDS.... I CAN'T DO THIS TO THEM!!! I HAVE TO LIVE, BUT I DON'T THINK I CAN MAKE IT!"
At around midnight, I had the “genius idea” to try and cough out a little bit of stuff in my throat. I have been feeling kind of sick throughout the last couple weeks, having difficulty breathing and all that. I figured it was just the turn of the seasons, that's how it always seems to happen. What I didn't know is that in the next 5 hours this would become even worse. It felt like my lungs were clogging up, becoming saturated with mucus or whatever, to where I was left with literally what felt like, a quarter of my original lung capacity. Using my asthma inhaler didn't seem to do any good, even after using 20 shots of it in 5 hours cuz my brain only knew this as a cure, and so it kept trying to make it be the cure.
My dad, who had been hearing me having these problems all night, woke up extra early and made the offer that we would probably go to the hospital. I didn't want to, considering that when mom went to the hospital they didn't help her too much because of staffing switching, and I was starting to get a little bit better so I thought I could just wait. Maybe use some NyQuil. Eventually, he decided that we were going. All he needed to do was eat a bowl of cream of wheat, while I got dressed.
This was torture.
Walking from the living room to my room, completely winded me. Every article of clothing that I had to put on, switching from pajamas to my day clothes, every step exhausted me. And my breathing was getting worse, I literally felt it shrinking. By the time I was nearly ready to go, it felt like I was breathing in a teaspoon of air and immediately breathing it out. Because albuterol, plus stress about what's going on so suddenly, and terrible memories of how quickly my own mother took a nosedive and ended up passing away something that seemed similar, makes your heart race, I was pretty much hyperventilating, and only able to say a word or two before I needed to take a breath again. And, remember, this whole time I'm starting to suffer from hypoxia, that is where my brain doesn't have enough oxygen. I can barely think of anything, except for getting out of the house and into the car, doing so while I still had enough air in my lungs to do so, and trying to slow my breathing down. What probably took two or four minutes tops, seem to stretch on to eternity. I was struggling to breathe, and my dad was helping me along, all the time I'm thinking about what would happen if I was to die in front of him. What would he do? He can't do everything he needs for his many different projects on his own. And I thought about my friends who I have here online, what would they do? How would they react if they heard I passed away? How awful would they feel? And all this time, I'm realizing in my brain that I don't have the breath to say anything, or even type anything as a kind of goodbye message or anything. But I do manage to get myself into the car, and Dad drives me to the hospital. All this time I'm just holding on to the door and the middle console, trying to slow my breathing down because it's going a mile a minute.
We get there, and dad goes in to get a wheelchair for me. I am very grateful that he was able to do so, because I would not make it out this day out the short walkway to get inside. No question. Get in through emergency, taped up, then with a mask feeding me air and other stuff to help my lungs loosen up and start to give me more air. Over the next 3 hours, I start to feel normal again.
And, turns out the reason for this is….. cause I have asthma and I managed to catch COVID….. hooray….
So now I am back at home, breathing relatively well, and I'm going to pick up some prescriptions later. But as for now, I'm going to get some rest. I deserve it for beating the odds and coming so damn close to death. And I just felt so guilty about all the stuff that was left undone…
Thankfully…. I still have my life ahead of me. And needless to say, I am working on a rough will of sorts so everything is organized in the case of slow oxygen depletion as if the universe realized I was trying to get to the hospital and it sped the process up so quickly, I thought I'd die before getting out of the door.
So people, whatever stress, or problems you're having in your life… I imagine it doesn't come close to the night I had. Life is good, please, use it well.
Addendum:
This was written when I had just gotten back. I got my medicine and some rest. Chest hurts, feels clogged, but I can live with this for the time being. And you can BET that if I start to go down hill again, I'm going right to the hospital before this spirals out of control! It just went from "I am breathing, but I can only use 1/4 of my lungs" to "I CAN ONLY BREATHE A TEASPOON AT A TIME, I'M GONNA DIE! I CAN'T DIE NOW! I HAVE TOO MUCH TO DO! AND MY FRIENDS.... I CAN'T DO THIS TO THEM!!! I HAVE TO LIVE, BUT I DON'T THINK I CAN MAKE IT!"
Wishing you a speedy recovery! :)
I wish you both a quick recovery and all the best!