The Sunday Finds (3/19/23)
Newsletter, anaphylaxis, write, divorce, email, classical.
Hello friends,
My apologies for not posting this last Thursday. This is, and has always been, a personal blog. A platform to think out loud, share stories and ideas, and become a better writer. Writing helps me think. And in that thinking another idea has flowered. Another newsletter idea. That said, I’m not stopping The Sunday Finds. This will remain ongoing, and it will also now the the home of any short stories, memoir, or other writing that I do - or don’t. At the very least, it will be the place I share fun and interesting things I’ve read, listened to, and watched over the last week. Thursdays will be no more.
BUT, in lieu of that comes something else really cool. I’m excited about it, and I’m even more excited to share it with all of you. Whoever is subscribed here, I will also subscribe to the new newsletter. And you can always unsubscribe from either one - or both - at anytime. I don’t have an actual ETA on when I’ll release it (there’s some planning and actual non-writing work I need to do before I write it), but I hope to have the first post up semi-soon. Stay tuned.
Reads
When Food Kills
This is a harrowing story about people with allergies. There are some unlucky folks that have so many food allergies that they have to carry a laminated allergy-list everywhere they go. I (unfortunately) have gone through anaphylaxis before, so I know what it’s like. It’s not fun - at all. Fortunately, I don’t have to carry a laminated list (yet). Here’s a story about my experience.
It was my Sophomore year at Columbia College Chicago. One night, I got food poisoning from a bad batch of Chinese food. Stomach aching, cold sweating, cramping. The works. In my agony, I called my mom who told me to go the nearest convenient store and buy some electrolytes and a banana. After promptly doing so, I headed back to my dorm, which was located on the 6th floor of a big building on State Street, downtown. My roommate was out, so I jumped back in bed, ate the banana, and killed a bunch of fake-cherry liquid. I felt better for about 2 minutes.
What started out as a seemingly innocuous yet odd sensation soon turned into a sense of dread and a night that I will never forget. At first, I didn’t think of the hotness around my ears as anything out of the ordinary. Just another feeling that would pass. A tickling of the skin around the backside of my neck. I scratched it a few times, but it didn’t go away. It got worse, and it spread. My face felt like it was being microwaved. This was around the time I paused my movie and stood up. It’s one of those things where you don’t really know what’s going on, so you just stand up and look down in bewilderment trying to pinpoint what the hell’s happening with your body.
It didn’t take long for my intuition to tell me what the culprit was. I’d had allergic reactions before, but the last one had been years prior and it only consisted of a stomach full of red welts, which went away after a few Benadryl. This felt entirely different.
I walked to the bathroom and pulled my shirt up. Red welts everywhere, scattered across my stomach like hundreds of mosquito bites. Some were so big that they melded into one another. They covered my stomach and chest, neck and ears. Within a matter of minutes of eating that banana, I had gone from uncomfortable food poisoning to a big red tomato about to melt. I noticed my breathing becoming a bit heavier and my vision fading, like that state in-between wakefulness and sleep. Although I didn’t know it at the time, I was going into anaphylactic shock. In retrospect, I’m amazed that I didn’t think to take any Benadryl. Not a single pink pill came to mind (I now carry three in a metal container on my keychain at all times, ready to be crushed and downed at a moments notice).
Pulling out my phone, I called my Mom again. “I think I’m having an allergy attack. Uh-huh… Yeah… Red welts everywhere. Mm-hm… Breathing is kind of off. Ok… Yeah… Ok, I’ll go now…”
She told me go to the ER. I hung up and called a friend who told me he was outside smoking and to come down immediately. He’d take me to the hospital.
“Should I call an ambulance?” he asked.
“Uhh, maybe… I’ll be down in a second.” I replied, not knowing if I actually needed one or not.
“Ok, see you in a second.”
I pulled some pants on, grabbed a jacked, slipped some shoes on, and headed to the elevator. Somehow I remained calm in all of this. No panic (that would come later), no crying or real worry. Just a slight anxiety, like I had a lot of errands to run but not enough time to do them. I strolled to the elevator, waited a minute, then the heard a ‘ding’. Inside were two or three other students. Stepping in, it felt uncomfortably hot.
As we descended, my consciousness and vision partly gave way. I sort of fell against the wall of the elevator. Almost like a face dive, but into the wall rather than the ground. Two guys took hold of me, each grabbing an arm, so that I wouldn’t completely fall over. I don’t really remember the ride down, just the frigid winter air that hit me like an ice bath as soon as the doors opened. It felt like a breath of fresh air. All at once, I was awake and more alert than ever. I kindly thanked the two gentleman and told them I could take it from there. To this day, I still don’t know if they thought I was drunk out of my mind or on drugs or what… I don’t think I ever told them what was happening, nor do I remember them asking (if you’re one of those two kind souls, thank you. I was not drunk.).
“Are you sure you’re ok?” one of them asked.
“Yup, thank you…” I replied, as I quickly sought out the exit. The cold air felt like heaven. It refreshed me. I was awake and alive and I intended to keep it that way. If it had been Summer, I’m not entirely sure I would’ve made it. The good side was that I no longer had food poisoning. Of course that wasn’t true, but it was completely out of mind, no where to be found or felt. It had been swept under the proverbial rug.
As I exited the building, I found my friend waiting outside. They were ready to call an ambulance but I told them that a cab would be just fine. I didn’t want the expense. The cold air was so refreshing that I felt well enough to make it to the hospital on my own (with my friend’s supervision, of course). We called a cab and were at the hospital in 15 minutes. I kept the window rolled down the entire ride with my head halfway out. The cold air countered the anaphylaxis somehow, like throwing snow on a fire.
We found dozens of soon-to-be patients in the ER. I briefly second guessed my decision to not call an ambulance, but calmly walked over to reception and explained the situation. She said someone would be with me soon and to wait with everyone else. I must’ve not looked that great, because my name was called not 10 minutes later. I remember thinking ‘how in the world did I just skip all of these people.’ It seemed a little unfair, but I also didn’t want to die so I didn’t put too much thought into it.
I was on a gurney in no time with what seemed like every head doctor circling around me. There must’ve been five or six nurses and doctors. An IV was put into each arm, and an EpiPen was stuck into my leg. Almost immediately an acute pain shot out of my lower-chest, right where your rib cage makes that “V”. A fat needle felt like it was being jammed into me. I tried to take a big breath, but couldn’t. It felt like someone had shoved a sock down my throat and I couldn’t get any air. That’s when I started to panic. I use every muscle in my body to get air, but each breath only feels like a thimble full. All the while, they calmly looked at me and said “it’s ok, you’re ok”. I wanted to scream that I was obviously not ok. My facial expression should’ve relayed the message (I’m pretty sure it did), but all I got in the form of help was one of those shit buckets that patients get in hospital beds, which one of the nurses put put in my lap. After what seemed like a lifetime, I finely caught a decent breath and puked into the shitter. Turns out they knew what they were doing after all.
I slowly regained my composure and stayed 4-5 hours in the hospital to make sure my body wouldn’t go into anaphylaxis again. Some friends came to visit, which was nice. They even brought me a cigarette, which I smoked waiting for a cab at 4am on the way home.
I have not eaten a banana since then.
Why Write?
I, along with many others, am a big fan of Farnam Street. Shane Parish, the creator/writer, is a master at sharing what others have already learned. This is nice piece on why writing is more than just sharing ideas; it’s a great way to think, to learn, to remember. I had forgotten lots of details about my hospitalization (above) until I sat down to write it.
Til a Thought Experiment Do Us Part
A fun little read about a couple’s divorce (doesn’t sound fun, but it’s entertaining). It actually made me think if I’ve done any pretending in past relationships. I’m sure the answer to that is “yes”, but no memories come to mind. I’ll have to think on that… Is pretending the same as assuming the worst in a relationship when you don’t know something? I wonder how true or close this story is to the real world. I’d love to hear your thoughts (replies are private and go straight to my inbox, and comments on Substack are public).
I Know What You Think of Me
This is might be everyone’s worst nightmare. A guy received an email about him that wasn’t supposed to go to him. He was CC’d by accident. I think it would be tough to know what people really think about you, but it might actually be cathartic reading honest opinions. I always try to tell the truth to friends and family, even if it’s tough. To not sugar coat anything (It can be hard…). And more importantly, to always be honest with myself, which a friend kindly reminded me earlier today.
Listen
I’ve been listening to a lot of classical music lately. Here are some favorites.
Until next week!
I remember you telling Steve and I about this experience years ago. What a scary situation! I know one other person allergic to bananas.