Hey, how is everyone? I hope your day, night, or whatever is going well (Time Zones and all). Last week, at the height of my sickness, I experienced something that put my life in perspective for me: I almost died. It wasn't as dramatic as one would expect. There were no explosions, terrorist attempts, machine gun fire, or gangland attack. It was the simple fact that I nearly ODed (overdosed) on my medicine while I was sick. I'll humor those eating from the Falcon Feed:
I was working my daytime job: security work. I won't say what company and I won't say where for... reasons, but I was working, and I felt like hell. I was in the middle of my sickness, but it as the last day before my time off, so I said to myself I could rough through it, go home to give body the rest it deserved, then go on with my life. Throughout the day, I was taking some store brand Mucinex every four hours as the bottle prescribed. It enabled me to at least have the use of my nose, so I wasn't complaining. However, things took a turn for the worst during the last hour of my shift.
I suddenly felt the urge to sleep, an urge to sleep like the Sandman slapped me in the face, and the urge came so suddenly. Most would think it was exhaustion or lack of sleep, but I've worked till my body broke before, played all-nighters till 5 in the morning on a gaming console, and worked the graveyard shift more than once in my life, but I've NEVER felt anything like this before. It was a feeling beyond tired, like there as an overwhelming compulsion or hypnosis forcing my mind to sleep. I felt like I was about to fly, I could barely feel my legs, and a I felt slightly nauseous. I told my supervisor my symptoms, then clocked out early. She put on my timecard I was leaving because I was sick. When I went upstairs to our breakroom I had two options, and I honestly believe the option I chose enabled me to type to you today: I could have "slept off" what was wrong with me before going home, or I could think harder about why I was sick. I think it hilarious how no one I worked with could properly diagnose what was wrong with me: It took my own logic to save my life among vets, ex-military, and professionals. Or maybe their logic didn't factor into the situation at all. Maybe they didn't care.
But in anycase, I knew I had taken copious amounts of medicine throughout the night, and that, despite something I brushed off as an old wives' tale, I didn't take adequate food with my medicine. I ate dinner and a snack during my break, but that was it. I went in the bathroom, pushed my finger down my throat, and was sickened at what I saw and smelled. The entire bowl was blue, the same color as the medicine, and it smelled like nothing but the stuff. An entire toilet bowl of pure medicine. After I returned to the breakroom, one my co-workers at least gave me his left over pizza, I got a drink from the beverage machine, and my entire world lifted. No more tired feeling, no more lightheaded feelings, but I could still barely feel my legs. When I could comfortably operate them again, I went home.
When I went home, I stayed in bed for the next few days. I didn't take anymore medicine. My wife wondered if she'd need to call the hospital (something I'm surprised my co-workers didn't ascertain), but the danger passed. I was just shocked and sick. I called and told certain family members about my ordeal, but none of them seemed to care. Lessons I learned from this ordeal to pass on:
1. Make sure you eat when you take your medicine
2. When you face a life-or-death ordeal, nothing better shows you how the people in your life truly feel about you
3. People can die in surprisingly silly ways, so live the life you want to live (as long as you don't hurt anyone :P)
I used to think it silly reading about celebrities dying of overdoses, especially "accidental" ones. I used to always believe A. Someone was trying to conceal a suicide for insurance purposes or B. It was a Tom Clancy novel conspiracy. Now I know, given the right circumstances, it can happen, for it almost happened to me. It saddens me to think in a dimension somewhere there's a version of me who died sleeping in a breakroom, but he must be out there somewhere, for I had two decisions to make, and thank God I made the right one. Now I have a second chance to make things right. Be careful and safe out there, and live the lives you desire. It's better to live the life you love than to die in one you hate.