From 9 years ago today: A troubled reminder

I share all this with you because I love you, and feel blessed to be able to say that. We should all remind our family and friends of this when we have the chance.

Around 2:20 this morning, I experienced something of what John Bonham must have gone through, although my choking came from chili that I'd sworn off eating again months ago due to the acid reflex it repeatedly caused. I briefly protested these self-condemning thoughts, pointing out I'd eaten supper before 7:30, and thus the chili should be long digested by then, but as my mind and stomach debated this, my lungs rather violently reminded them, and the rest of me, that no air was getting in. I could not breathe.

Choking makes an interesting sound when you're emitting no air to give it voice. So I stumbled into the bathroom, brushing past my mind's suggestion that I put something on first.

I heard myself gagging through my bones, desperate for wind of any kind, and to be honest, I was somewhat disturbed to not make any progress in these efforts, so I slumped against the tub and lowered my head as far as possible in hopes I and gravity might discharge whatever blocked my throat. A troubled reminder rushed forward: I had just cleaned that tub yesterday, and so I really didn't want to make much of a mess of things. Then a rather titanic ripple went through my chest and my legs, acting on their own, surged up to press against my gut.

I managed to spit some orange liquid into the tub, and I was somewhat disappointed and surprised at how little it was, hardly even a sputter, but then, as I sat dying on the toilet, my lungs ripped forward again and another thimble of spittle landed in the tub, replaced by a gasp of air.

How I felt at the time...

I knew it was not enough -- I could still feel the obstruction, and its resistance -- and so I forced that air back out as I knelt again at the tub's edge. More air flooded in, accelerating the coughing process beyond my mind's ability to keep up, until after uncounted spasms I found myself able to breathe somewhat freely once more, through with an irritating liquid gurgle still clinging to my vocal chords.

Being me, I was most frustrated with all the acidic fire still alive in my throat, so I chewed up some generic Tums, contemplated life, thanked God that I could contemplate life, and went back to bed. Two hours later I again awoke on my side, my throat aflame, but my mind was totally prepared and rising before the choking ever began. Chewing up a few more acid tablets stopped that process.

In my part-time work with Emerge Marketing+PR, I'm asked each morning what three things I'm grateful for that day. This is what I turned in this morning:

1. Breathing. You remember just how fun it is when you can't do it.

2. Silence. Or rather, the lack of it. Even with my ears dampened by 50-plus years of high voltage rock and roll, I still find I'm bombarded with all levels of sounds, from mechanical rhythms to random bird calls, wind song, and other unpredictable elements. It's a nice reminder that life rolls ever on, when you have the time and patience to hear it.

3. The ability to fill this out, and even more, the desire and will to do so. Curiosity... a calculating mind.... a contemplative soul... life would be an empty shell without these things that make us want to reach out and experience, learn, and grow.

Most of all, I'm thankful each and every day for a loving God who gave His Son to die on the cross for me, family and friends who care about my welfare, and the chance to say all these things once again. For there will come a time when I'm no longer able to do so.

Yes, that's me, still kicking several years later...