I Thought I Would Die…Until I Remembered
All I could do was cough, throat raw as a bloody piece of meat. My vision went gray when I tried to stand. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest it was beating so hard. For a space of a few hours, I truly thought that any minute now I was going to die.
It was March of 2020. After getting chemically disinfected on an eleven-hour flight back to the states the day before the big travel ban went into effect, my body was having a severe allergic reaction.
The first time the flight attendants had sprayed, I’d covered my face with my sweater and told my body that I was safe, that it was Ok, that I was just fine. I repeated this every hour on the hour. My body had stayed in ease for the first eight sprays. On pass number nine, I had an internal freakout, thinking, ‘AAHHH! It’s too much! I can’t handle this.’ My body had responded by going into instant distress, throat closing like a vise. ‘Oh shit’, I thought, ‘This is not good.’ I managed to stave off the full anaphylactic response by quickly backpeddling in my thoughts, rapidly reassuring my body that I was Ok and that I could absolutely handle this. It worked, my throat opened just enough to allow in a whisper of air.
Somehow, I managed to function long enough to drag myself off the plane in LA, collapse for one night at my friend Liz’s, and then drive twenty-two hours to my daughter’s house in Austin, Texas. Then I crashed hard, coughing incessantly for the next five days.
There came a point where I couldn’t breathe. I began to get very scared.
Dizzy from lack of oxygen, I curled in fear in my daughter’s bed.
Wheezing in the tiniest thread of air through my tightened airways, one thought looped on repeat, ‘I cannot die yet; I haven’t finished my work.’
Although I was swamped with terror, a part of me was still connected to my source of innate wisdom. This part was whispering that I would be Ok if I could just drop the fear. So, while my daughter was trying to convince me to let her take me to the ER, I did the only sensible thing I could think of to do: I called my brother, David.
Several miracles followed in quick succession.
First miracle. He actually answered his phone 🙂 Now this might not sound like a big deal unless you know my brother; David can easily go an entire month without checking his messages. I threw up a huge wave of gratitude and managed to gasp out the necessary details in a hoarse whisper, something along the lines of, “breathed poison, freaking out, help!”
“Drop the fear,” he gently reminded me, ”Your animal body is innately intelligent and knows exactly what to do to heal itself. It is simply responding to your fear. Decide that your lungs are Ok.”
Next miracle. His calming words were able to penetrate my panic. I remembered the Universal Law of Attention: what you focus on expands. The more I thought about breathing in something toxic, the tighter my lungs had gotten. Of course my animal body was simply responding to my fears of inhaling more poison.
I began speaking gently to my body, “It’s alright. You’re safe. The air is clean. Your lungs are Ok now.”
Third miracle. My body responded nearly instantly by going into an accelerated healing process. My lungs contracted tightly to squeeze out the excess mucus. There was a sharp smell of peppermint, followed by a searing sensation down my entire airway. Then one more tight contraction where I held my breath for about a full minute, and then a gentle pop. The invisible vise on my lungs and airway released. Within 10 minutes, I was able to breathe completely normally. Emergency medical crisis averted. Thank you, God.
Fear weakens. Love strengthens.
As I integrate this knowledge for the thousandth-something time in this lifetime, I remind myself that instead of going into a panic when I get scared, I can always choose love.
Much LOVE, joy, and vibrant freedom