Being mistaken for being pregnant...
is only really insulting when your stomach has decided to take on NBA impersonations.
When you're leaning out of a car in the middle of the street in a pool of vomit, it's kind of a relief. Since you can't talk, it's nice that you don't have too.
And yes, the above would indicate that I had ANOTHER one of my attacks.
I was feeding cats, and walked out of the house, into my car, and lost it.
Thank God for Vivian, the pleasant German voice, that came wafting over my car door. She was very sympathetic because she has two kids of her own. I couldn't talk more than whisper at the time, so I don't think I purposefully mislead her about my condition (I clarified later) She understood me enough to call L. at work, who came down, but not before Joanna, the neighbour came out and covered me in cold compresses and brought me water. Vivian stuck around too. There is nothing so nice as comforting hands rubbing mine and my forehead as I'm trying to ride waves of consciousness and discomfort.
I spent the morning in my car on a suburban road in Nyack, trying not to panic.
And you know then thing was, that the first moments were the worst, when I was trying to think logically about what to do. Should I go back inside? No, I'd pass out on the ground and throw up inside, where someone one else will have to clean it up. Do I stay in my car, and hang out the side? what if a weird person stops? my purse is right beside me, with all my info in it. It's not safe. which made me upset because, isn't this Loving God supposed to take care of me?
Then I realized that I seem to think that God will always put me in safe areas, to keep me secure. why I think that I don't know. Made sense at the time I guess. But sitting in that car, I though, well, OK. This is not a safe situations. I'm halfway in the street with the car door open and I can't move. (I wasn't thinking THAT coherently at the time, I'm superimposing structure post-incident. I get that from reading too many books) I'm completely vulnerable, through no choice of my own (I had actually taken very good care of myself, and as per previous incidents I should have been fine once I got to the car. I don't know why this time it kicked into hyper drive) Well, no time like the present for God to show up and protect me. That's when I gave up. (OK to be fair, I also didn't much care at that point, as my entire existence seemed to have centered on my breathing.)
And that's when I heard that lovely German voice ask me how I was doing.
Of all the times I've passed out in strange places, this was, I think, my favorite! Everyone involved was truly sympathetic and completely unknown to me, no-one though I was drunk and, my favorite, no one called 911. I was able to talk enough to convince them it was unnecessary.
L. picked me up and tucked me in on her sofa, and I spendt the rest of the day watching movies. but she also found some more leads on what could be wrong with me. so back to the doctor I go armed with another round of names and symptoms.
I think the best part was when Joanna was describing my condition back to me, and she was trying to see how my life would have to be organized around this. And it hit me again, that, wow, maybe, eventually I can take control of this, but in the meantime, I am done feeling as if I'm a weakling for giving into this ( not that I have much choice, but I always assumed, somewhere inside, that if I only had more willpower, I could get through it)
Anyways. the rest of my life continues on. I'm taking my car in to the shop today to get some things looked at. I've decided to take the tiny litte apartment one street away. It will do me well for now, and lets face it, I've got no family, no pets and I''m making pretty basic money. What more do I need?
more later
When you're leaning out of a car in the middle of the street in a pool of vomit, it's kind of a relief. Since you can't talk, it's nice that you don't have too.
And yes, the above would indicate that I had ANOTHER one of my attacks.
I was feeding cats, and walked out of the house, into my car, and lost it.
Thank God for Vivian, the pleasant German voice, that came wafting over my car door. She was very sympathetic because she has two kids of her own. I couldn't talk more than whisper at the time, so I don't think I purposefully mislead her about my condition (I clarified later) She understood me enough to call L. at work, who came down, but not before Joanna, the neighbour came out and covered me in cold compresses and brought me water. Vivian stuck around too. There is nothing so nice as comforting hands rubbing mine and my forehead as I'm trying to ride waves of consciousness and discomfort.
I spent the morning in my car on a suburban road in Nyack, trying not to panic.
And you know then thing was, that the first moments were the worst, when I was trying to think logically about what to do. Should I go back inside? No, I'd pass out on the ground and throw up inside, where someone one else will have to clean it up. Do I stay in my car, and hang out the side? what if a weird person stops? my purse is right beside me, with all my info in it. It's not safe. which made me upset because, isn't this Loving God supposed to take care of me?
Then I realized that I seem to think that God will always put me in safe areas, to keep me secure. why I think that I don't know. Made sense at the time I guess. But sitting in that car, I though, well, OK. This is not a safe situations. I'm halfway in the street with the car door open and I can't move. (I wasn't thinking THAT coherently at the time, I'm superimposing structure post-incident. I get that from reading too many books) I'm completely vulnerable, through no choice of my own (I had actually taken very good care of myself, and as per previous incidents I should have been fine once I got to the car. I don't know why this time it kicked into hyper drive) Well, no time like the present for God to show up and protect me. That's when I gave up. (OK to be fair, I also didn't much care at that point, as my entire existence seemed to have centered on my breathing.)
And that's when I heard that lovely German voice ask me how I was doing.
Of all the times I've passed out in strange places, this was, I think, my favorite! Everyone involved was truly sympathetic and completely unknown to me, no-one though I was drunk and, my favorite, no one called 911. I was able to talk enough to convince them it was unnecessary.
L. picked me up and tucked me in on her sofa, and I spendt the rest of the day watching movies. but she also found some more leads on what could be wrong with me. so back to the doctor I go armed with another round of names and symptoms.
I think the best part was when Joanna was describing my condition back to me, and she was trying to see how my life would have to be organized around this. And it hit me again, that, wow, maybe, eventually I can take control of this, but in the meantime, I am done feeling as if I'm a weakling for giving into this ( not that I have much choice, but I always assumed, somewhere inside, that if I only had more willpower, I could get through it)
Anyways. the rest of my life continues on. I'm taking my car in to the shop today to get some things looked at. I've decided to take the tiny litte apartment one street away. It will do me well for now, and lets face it, I've got no family, no pets and I''m making pretty basic money. What more do I need?
more later
posted by Gwen at
7:07 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home