Monday, May 06, 2013

I am dying

Posted by Reverend Ref + at 12:19 PM

I've been relatively healthy all my life.  I've had the usual bouts with colds, an occasional flu attack, but all in all, I think I've been on the above average side of healthy.

I've discovered a few things I'm allergic to; mainly morphine and Easter lilies.  We discovered the morphine thing post-knee surgery when we learned that it tended to make my body want to just stop.  It didn't bother me, but the nurses were sort of in a panic about it.

And there was an incident at seminary when the chapel was full of Easter lilies that caused my throat to constrict and a terrible coughing bout ensued.  That could have been due to the amount of lilies and the relatively small, enclosed space; but to be on the safe side, I've instructed my altar guild to not purchase lilies at Easter.  We decorate the church with many types of other flowers instead.

But now, at almost-49, my body has decided to come down with a case of allergies.  I thought it was a summer cold, but Mrs. Ref said, "Nope, it's allergies.  Welcome to my world."

I'm sure I'm dying over here.

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2 comments:

Jane Ellen+ | 1:44 AM, May 07, 2013  

Nope. Not happening. I'm sorry you're miserable, but there will be no dying. None.

Lady Anne | 7:07 PM, May 07, 2013  

I never thought I was allergic to anything until I was given oxycodone post-op. I was gradually sinking into a coma when the Squire found me. I really wasn't worried - kings nice to float off - but The Squire had a fit when he found me. He thought I was already dead. He held my hand and I turned toward him, and asked what was wrong. "You don't have a pulse." Well, that's pretty serious. I told him to find the pulse in my neck, which he did. "Now what do I do." All I could think was, "I'm dying, and I have to phone it in. (I did NOT say it out loud.) Count the beats for 15 seconds and multiply by four. My pulse was waaaay over 200, which is why he couldn't find it in my wrist. That's when I told him to call 911.

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