It was Christmas day. I was enjoying myself but was exhausted from all the travel and late nights of internet shopping combined with a four month old infant becoming accustomed to her pack'n'play. My parents had invited my cousins and their kids over for Christmas dinner and we all sat talking around the table speaking loudly so we could be heard over the shouting of excited children running through the house. I was telling some ridiculous story involving me and something embarrassing I had done when it all started. My mom placed a tray of desserts in the center of the table and, as I talked, I grabbed for a large peanut butter ball. When I bit down a strange taste entered my mouth and for a split second I thought, "something is wrong," then my world shifted. My vision began to tunnel and grow dimmer and dimmer. Knowing I was nearing the end of my story, I tried to stay focused but I couldn't. Apparently I began to explain to my sister-in-law that I had been poisoned. "The peanut butter candies are poisoned," I kept muttering. Then miraculously I was better. Looking toward a very perplexed face, I smiled at my sister-in-law and said, "that was weird." I don't know who felt more confused by the encounter.
When the company went home that night my sweet husband approached me and asked if I was okay. Apparently he had witnessed my brief madness and was concerned. Assuring him I was fine I began to contemplate, for the first time since the occurrence, what had happened. I thought of the peanut butter ball and questioned whether I had somehow developed a food allergy that had brought on some kind of reaction (remembering that my mom's friend had recently developed an allergy to a z-pak after her third day taking the medication and went into full anaphylactic shock). Instantly I began spinning. I started hearing ringing in my ears, my entire body went tingly and weak. I called for my husband and told him something was wrong. As he took me to the couch to lie down, I felt a tightness in my lungs and a skipping sensation in my heart. Something was definitely wrong. The voices of those around me became muffled and distant. "I think I am having an allergic reaction," I kept repeating. My mom ran and grabbed the Benadryl and I was given a good dose (or two). I felt so foggy and distant, it was getting harder to breath and I thought, "this can't be the end."
My thoughts kept turning to my sweet babies. My angel boys and the sweet little girl I had just been sent months before. "I just want to hold my babies," I started to say, "please just get my babies." I felt the warmth of my husband sitting next to me and thought how much I loved him. Perhaps I may have also had some less noble thoughts like, "I can't die. I haven't even seen Hunger Games yet." and "Can I really die a brunette," due to my crazy after birth experimentation I had taken on just a few weeks back, but I'm only human. The bottom line--I was dying. Between questions of whether someone should call an ambulance and what my symptoms were so they could conduct an appropriate Google search, I just kept thinking how not ready I was to die. Just don't go towards the light, I had seen the movies and knew how it worked, they couldn't take me if I refused to go (which I actually wholeheartedly don't agree with but in the moment I felt it was worth a try). Just don't go.
"Every search result I'm getting says she is most likely having either anxiety or a panic attack," relayed my sister-in-law. Shame Google, you usually do such a great job at answering my life questions...shame! I began thinking that dying sure was taking a long time. I had seemed to plateau on my symptoms and although I didn't feel any better, my airways hadn't closed up and my heart was still beating (irregularities and all). "I need a blessing, " I told my husband. Within minutes I had three of the men I loved most in my life--and worthy Priesthood holders--around me, hands on my head, blessing me. My head began to clear and although it was difficult to concentrate on the words, I could feel the calming power enter my body. By the end of the blessing I felt hope that I still had life ahead of me. Then I had to be helped to the restroom in a hurry.
And thus it all began. My life was forever changed.
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