When the police arrived, my throat had already swollen shut.
“She’s going into Anaphylaxis shock,” the Officer radioed the paramedics while strapping a cold, plastic, oxygen mask to my face.
“What did you have to eat?” He asked.
But I couldn’t answer him.
I motioned to my 15-year-old son, Justin, who called 911, to get me a piece of paper to write on. While sucking down the oxygen as if it were my very last breath, I quickly scribbled: Chicken Cesar Salad, Two Martinis, 5 Benadryl, 1 Allegra, and ½ a Xanax. I had taken those medications the second I felt the onset of an allergic reaction.
My earlobes and eyelids itched like a bad case of athlete’s foot. My sinus passages closed, and my cheeks looked like a chipmunk storing nuts for the winter. My lips puffed up like Mick Jagger, with a collagen injection. And, my hands and feet blew up to the size of baseball gloves. My whole body felt as if I was being stabbed, repeatedly, with burning-hot-itchy-spiky-needles.
One by one the EMS stormed into my bedroom wielding medical supplies. And suddenly there was a sea of people wearing navy blue uniforms surrounding me. Everything seemed to be happening so fast, and yet, in slow motion. My son explained the situation to the paramedics, as I nodded in agreement.
A member of the EMS asked, “What are you allergic to?”
I desperately tried to talk, all to no avail. Snapping my fingers, I pointed to my pocketbook. My son handed me my gigantic, red, leather, purse and I rummaged around inside, until I pulled out the list of food I am not supposed to eat.
Then the paramedics asked my son if I had an Epi-Pen. But, I didn’t. However, there was one in my mother’s bedroom closet. Alas, they were unable to distribute the shot, because my name was not on the prescription.
The next thing I knew, another EMS member had to place an IV in my right hand. I have a history of passing out at the mere sight of a needle. I ripped the oxygen mask off my face, gasped, and squeezed out the words, “I am going to faint.”
That’s when the only female paramedic, Tracy, took my left hand and held it tightly inside her purple glove. There was something very comforting about her face, and I felt safe with her watching over me. Meanwhile another paramedic simultaneously wrapped a tourniquet around my left arm and swabbed the inside of my elbow with alcohol wipes. I thought they were going to draw blood, however, they were only trying to distract me, to prevent me from losing consciousness.
All of a sudden, my right hand felt very wet and very warm. I looked over to see blood tricking down from the IV and onto my green, silk, duvet cover. Spots flashed before my eyes. A whole new level of fear and anxiety washed over me. I whipped my head back around toward Tracy, and locked eye contact with her. She could see the desperation plastered on my face. Huffing and puffing, I took several deep breaths of oxygen.
“You’re doing great.” Tracy stated as a matter of fact, “You’re going to be okay.”
After I calmed down a little bit, the paramedics helped me to my feet, and put me on the gurney. I was being taken to the Emergency Room.
Once we were in the ambulance, the paramedics placed heart monitor leads all over my chest and stomach. Then, they gave me an injection of Epinephrine in my upper thigh.
And then my blood pressure spiked to 187/114.
I started shaking. I thought I was having convulsions. I heard the words hypertensive and tachycardia, before receiving another shot of something in my arm.
My heart rate skyrocketed and then rapidly plummeted.
And then my blood pressure dropped to 90/51.
Shivering from deep down inside, my teeth chattered uncontrollably.
I knew I was fighting for my life.
I really don’t remember very much after that. It’s all kind of a blur. I can only recall little snippets.
I remember getting to the hospital and feeling a tiny sense of relief, yet still feeling absolutely terrified that I was going to die. And I remember my mother, my father, and my brother showing up. I remember mildly freaking out about my health insurance cards being put back into my wallet in the proper place. Because when I feel that out-of-control, my OCD kicks into over drive. But, I don’t know how long I was in the hospital. And I don’t know what kind of medications they distributed.
I vaguely remember the drive home after being discharged. I sat in the passenger seat of my mother’s car thinking it was all a bad dream. I have no idea how I got upstairs, or into my pajamas, before climbing into bed utterly drained.
I can honestly say – this was the single most frightening experience of my entire life. And I’ve been held-up at gunpoint, ya’ll.
I’ve been wandering around aimlessly for the past few days. While I am EXTREMLY GRATEFUL simply to be alive, I can’t help but feel incredibly sad, very confused, and completely traumatized. And of course, I am petrified to eat food. Because if something as simple as LETTUCE, can potentially KILL ME? I’m not willing to gamble my life and throw caution to the wind, by eating ANYTHING. Apparently, because I am allergic to so many foods, and because my list of ‘Do Not Eat Foods’ is forever changing, even if I eat something that I’ve had 100 times before, I still might run the risk of facing a life-threatening reaction.
As of right now, I am on a steady diet of cheese and chicken broth. And I am on a prednisone + benadryl cocktail, per hospital release instructions. I have to schedule an appointment with my allergy specialist next week. Although, it’s highly doubtful he will ever be able to exactly pinpoint the cause of my violent reaction.
* On a lighter note, maybe I should get my own version of “Man vs. Food.” Except in my version, I can actually die. It’ll make that Adam Richman look like a totally pussy compared to me. And just think of the ratings!
PS: During this whole debacle, my best friend ‘Amy The Bartender’ knew something wasn’t right when she saw my son’s Facebook status update: “Paramedics at the house.” Then she knew something was really very wrong when she didn’t receive any text messages back from me. And my own Facebook status hadn’t been updated. But what made her the most nervous was the fact that no one had taken any photos.
In any event, I would like to thank my son, Justin, and, the Manalapan Paramedics, from the bottom of my heart, for saving my life. Without them, I would not be here today.
And a tip of the hat to EVERY SINGLE volunteer that helps save lives – every single day.
*REVISED/UPDATE*
My brother, Adam, was the only one who had the wherewithal to take a photo. I have no idea why it’s all crooked. But here I am.
PPS: I wrote this post using some of the tricks/skillz/techniques I learned from reading this book, written by my friend Margaret Andrews. [But more on THAT, another day.]
So, have any of you ever had a near-death experience?
And if so…do tell!
Thank you so much Doc.
Alrighty then. Kindly scratch off that Greek Salad recipe I posted from your possible menu choices (OMG! I just realized my response to your comment was that it was …”probably non-fatal”). Talk about guilt!
😉
But, really, I’m so glad to hear you are alright.! I don’t have allergies so I cannot imagine what you went through.
Just a note: we were watching a newscast last night wherein it was revealed that a majority of the chicken we buy is vaccinated with antibiotics (whether or not the need for antibiotics is indicated) and that many chickens have developed drug resistant strains of bacteria. It was aired on CBC’s “Marketplace” (you can probably get the story online). So, maybe it wasn’t the lettuce after all(?)
I have to admit I was nearly in tears reading this post. First, because what a terrifying thing to experience. Second, because I lost my father to anaphylaxis. Thank goodness at least your whole family knew your condition and could pass this on to the EMTs and be of assistance in the efforts to save your life. I’m glad you are OK. Hugs from Michigan.
Yikes!! My goodness. I’m glad you are okay!! That must have been very scary. Thank goodness someone was with you when it happened!
That sounds really scary but I guess it gives a lot to be thankful for. Well-written post by the way 🙂
I’ve not been in a near-death situation so far but I’m glad I haven’t. I wouldn’t know how I can survive the ordeal that you just did.
Oh my god Meleah!! How terrifying! Thank goodness you were able to get help quickly. Your son handled the situation so beautifully! Rest up and I hope you feel better soon. *hugs*
Oh my god Meleah!! How terrifying! Thank goodness you were able to get help quickly. Your son handled the situation so beautifully! Rest up and I hope you feel better soon. *hugs*
Oh my god Meleah!! How terrifying! Thank goodness you were able to get help quickly. Your son handled the situation so beautifully! Rest up and I hope you feel better soon. *hugs*
Damn. That sort of thing scares me, lady. I’m glad that you came through it ok. As someone who has been swiped at by The Reaper, (and nicked, a couple of times), I can understand your feelings afterwards. It is good to keep your sense of humor, I think that is what is saving you right now.
Holy crap, Meleah, this was terrifying. I’ve never heard of somebody suddenly becoming allergic to a new food absent some sort of trauma. An old friend, for example, developed a sudden and temporary allergy to shrimp after a really bad auto accident. And my wife, Kerry, developed a gluten allergy after her recent heart surgeries, which makes no sense at all. Have you been stressed out, or suffered some trauma recently?
Anyway, I’m glad you’re still alive and writing. This was a great post, not because it was fun to read, but because it was well-written.
That sounds like a line from a murder mystery.
Holy crap how scared you must have been. Glad you are home and, hopefully, resting. I have never experienced anything close to that scary. Ever.
Seriously!
Meh. There are too many variables that could have caused this.
I have an appointment on Wednesday with my allergist at 11am.
It was something I’ve eaten 100 times before, and never had an issue.
Which is why I am TERRIFIED of food right now.
And, apparently, Benadryl doesn’t work anymore!
Who the hell knows!
Now I am going to have to undergo a series of tests all over again.
I need a newly updated “foods to avoid” list.
Thank you SO MUCH MomZombie.
And I actually THOUGHT about YOUR POST on your FATHER while this was
happening to me.
Love you, woman.
xoxoxo
🙂
I have a permanent reminder to be thankful for EVERY SINGLE BREATH.
My son is my HERO.
Honestly, I am still TOTALLY traumatized by what happened.
I STILL feel VERY off-kilter.
Thanks MWJ.
See, I do listen to YOUR advice on writing too.
And. Yeah, this was a REALLY bad experience.
I am still NOT right.
In fact, I’m crying RIGHT NOW while typing this.
Maybe it’s the meds.
Maybe it’s the trauma.
Maybe it’s because I’m SOFA KING starving.
Who knows.
But, Imma MESS up in here.
My bedroom looked like a crime scene.
That’s for sure.
Thanks, Doll.
xoxo
Wow, how scary! I am glad to hear that you are ok!
Oh my dear God, Meleah. I’m on the edge of my seat here. I’m so sorry this happened to you. I could feel your fear so clearly. God, I can’t believe this. Thank GOD you are all right!!!! And thank God for all the help you got, from your family and the EMS people. Tell the allergist everything when you go in. You can’t have this happen again. Be well, hon.
I am glad you are okay! That must be so frightening. I do want you to get an epi-pen post haste. Rest up and let your body heal.
Oh. My. Good. God. Meleah, that is completely terrifying and I can’t believe that happened to you!!! No wonder you don’t want to eat anything! I hope you can work through all this shit and find a solution where you can enjoy food again and not DIE!!! What I love about this post is the pace of your story-telling and the fact that you keep your sense of humor, even when you’re facing death. You have a gift, girl. My prayer and thoughts are with you!!! XOXOXOXO
Thank you sweety. xoxo
Kathy, it was seriously the scariest moment, of my WHOLE life.
I will be telling my specialist everything on Wednesday.
But until then? I’m only eating cheese!
And, thank you for being here for me.
I’ll be getting all new EpiPens by Wednesday!
xoxooxox
Wow. Now that’s one hellova compliment.
I love you, Dana.
xoxoox
OhmyGod OhmyGod OhmyGod! There is so much I want to say. FIrst of all…thank GAWD you’re still alive. What a horrible scary frantic thing.
Second of all, this could sound really thoughtless of me, but I swear, the whole time I was reading this, I was thinking, “Oh my God, the beginning of this post was awesome – it totally hooked me, I couldn’t stop reading it, and the fact that she’s posting that picture – I just LOVE this woman”. I mean, I was totally analyzing your post and realizing how engaging it was, but now I’m going to come across as totally tacky or insensitive, or cocky even, because then you actually mentioned me and my book at the end and I love that you give Sticky Readers some props for this awesome awesome post – THANK YOU!
That, and thank GAWD you’re still alive.
I swear you had me at the first line (and I had no idea you were going to mention Sticky Readers). So, if it’s not too soon, I want to tell you how wonderfully compelling this story was.
XOXOXO
I hope you feel better.
Bloody hell, Meleah. I am in tears here. We can’t lose you, woman. We just can’t. OMG. Are you saying that reaction waas caused by lettuce? That is absolutely terrifying. Your son is a legend and a hero. How calm is he in a crisis? He’s an incredible young man. I hope you never ever ever have an experience like that again. Thank God you are OK. Thank God. Love you XXXX
OH MY GOD!!! How unbelievably scarry of an experience to have to go through. I am so glad that you are okay. You don’t even remotely resemble yourself in that picture (I guess that’s a good thing, right?).
YAY! I’m glad I made you proud, Margaret.
I told you, I loved your book.
And reading it certainly taught me a lot about writing a blog post.
I’d really like to write a “review” to pimp out your book, here on my blog,
some time, next week.
If that’s okay with you?
Hopefully, nothing this serious ever happens again.
I’m not sure if I will be able to pull off writing such an engaging post,
when I’m talking about coffee.
But, we’ll see.
And, no, you do NOT sound cocky, tacky or insensitive.
Not at all.
Love you!
Selma,
My son was so cool, and so calm.
He dialed 911 and took control over the whole situation.
I am beyond impressed/amazed at what an awesome MAN he’s become.
I am SOFA KING lucky to have him.
Thank you sweety!
xoxo
I swear this is still so surreal to me.
OK, yes. When you nearly die, that subject alone can be very engaging. But as you know, it’s not just what you say but HOW you say it. And you read the chapter about writing about mundane things, so when it comes time to talk about coffee (as long as you’re not talking about it trying to kill you), you go get ’em, girl!
As for reviewing my book, nothing would make me happier (except from knowing that you’re STILL ALIVE after some freakin’ lettuce!) If there is anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask me.
Love you back!
P.S.
(I was going to ask you this in a separate email, but if you’re able to get to NYC – I forget how far away you are, but this came up last year, so I think you’re kinda close aren’t you? – I’ll be there in September. We can talk offline about exact dates, but I wanted to mention it now)
OK, yes. When you nearly die, that subject alone can be very engaging. But as you know, it’s not just what you say but HOW you say it. And you read the chapter about writing about mundane things, so when it comes time to talk about coffee (as long as you’re not talking about it trying to kill you), you go get ’em, girl!
As for reviewing my book, nothing would make me happier (except from knowing that you’re STILL ALIVE after some freakin’ lettuce!) If there is anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask me.
Love you back!
P.S.
(I was going to ask you this in a separate email, but if you’re able to get to NYC – I forget how far away you are, but this came up last year, so I think you’re kinda close aren’t you? – I’ll be there in September. We can talk offline about exact dates, but I wanted to mention it now)
YAY!!!
And, hell yes. I’d LOVE to meet you in Real Life.
Although I am terrified of driving over bridges and driving in NYC, I just
might put on my big-girl panties and do it.
Not only will I get to meet YOU think of all the material I will have to
write about. Win-Win.
Are you also terrified of subways? Maybe you could take PATH in the city. Or I could take it to Jersey City or Hoboken because I actually know how to do that. 🙂
Okay! Cool. Let’s exchange emails in August and set this up! YIPPPPEEEE
Damn! I am sorry to that you got run over by that lettuce truck but I am sofaking happy to hear you are doing better (even if you feel like shit). Seems like you cannot eat ice without having some problems. I know you don’t need me to tell you but that whole deal sucks. Glad to hear you are back home and taking it easy. Get some rest, get healthy and stay the hell away from those chicken cesar salads.
BTW – love how you were able to coordinate your answers even when getting stabbed/poked by the EMTs. Your son did a great job.
I thought I commented on this earlier, but now I can’t find my comment so I must have done something wrong..
I can’t believe you were almost killed by lettuce! I’m so glad you’re okay, Meleah! I can’t imagine how scary that must have been. You’re just going to have to go on a liquid diet of vodka from now on, I’m afraid, since everything edible seems to be trying to kill you.
I am glad that you are alright. I am grateful that I have not been through such experience and wishing that no one else would go through such experience too.
I just want to say
your article is wonderful the clarity in your post is just nice and i can assume
you are an expert on this subject thanks.
“Delete”
I’m all for going on THAT kind of diet!
“Approve”
Thanks, BK. I’m coming around.