I couldn't breathe, my body completely locked, contracted and numb, unable to move, my heart beat so fast it was vibrating. I was clawing at the very cliff's edge of consciousness, when finally the medics arrived, and rushed me back to the same hospital I was released from just 3 days before. I waited 43 years for an ambulance ride and now this makes twice in one week.
If you know me, you know I've struggled thru some very hard things (infertility, I nearly died during the loss of our first baby, 80 days in the NICU with my prematurely-born twins, a year-long deployment ending with my husband on a ventilator and 2 years of rehab ahead of us- this all happened within the span of a few years), but this month, friends, this month has broken me. Two and a half weeks ago we said our final goodbye to my dear mother-in-law as we released her ashes to the sea. Later that same day, I watched a family member die before my eyes while another desperately performed CPR in vain. You can't unsee that. This week, while still reeling from that trauma a drug-impared woman drove into the side of our Jeep while we were traveling at 50mph. It's only by the grace of God and the protection of angels that we all walked away from that impact. My children, though deeply traumatized, had not a scratch on their little bodies. My husband, the man that I so deeply love and admire did exactly what he always does, he took charge. After checking us, he checked on the other driver then directed traffic on arguably the most dangerous road in the area for half an hour while awaiting police. A trip to the ER, my first ambulance ride ever, revealed my pain was not due to broken bones. Thank you God.
While feeling deeply blessed to be protected thru this, I began to realize how close we came to a very different outcome. The police were surprised our Jeep didn't rollover. What if the oncoming traffic were closer, after all, we were spun into that lane. What if we were driving our lower-set Element as we had planned that morning, instead of the much taller Jeep that my husband insisted on taking as we left the house? Would her SUV have come fully thru the door seriously injuring my body? Journey's?
Don't get me wrong, I'm deeply thankful that my 'what if's are not 'if only's. Yet my brain can't stop thinking and replaying these traumatic events of the last two weeks, unleashing anxiety that I had struggled with from those earlier traumas a decade ago.
Despite the anxiety I felt at the thought of driving just three days after the accident, I headed to the doctor alone. (My thought process: I have to drive again, right? I might as well start now.) Just beyond the scene of the accident, I became light-headed and pulled over. Despite desperately trying to control my breathing, the situation began spiraling out of control. My entire body went numb due to a tachicardic heartrate triggered by adrenaline, caused by lack of oxygen. A terrifying chain reaction.
Alone in a parking lot, about to lose consciousness, I called 911. I also called out to Jesus and miraculously he kept me awake. While speaking to the dispatcher the phone fell from my hand as every muscle engaged and became paralyzed, my speech changed, an intensity indescribable.
Finally medics arrived, gave me oxygen, an IV and tried to stimulate my vagas nerve to slow my heart that was now beating at 160 beats per minute, 100 times faster than my normal rate.
I pleaded with them to not take me to the hospital. Just days before I was terrified upon arrival in the midst of a pandemic. The ER was overwhelmed. Gurneys holding people appearing near death lined the halls. I held my breath and closed my eyes as we passed. There was no room, so I had to wait in the waiting room with 10 other people. I remember wondering what would happen if I arrived by ambulance but left before treatment, it was that scary.
The medics made it clear, my condition was extremely dangerous, to the hospital we must go. Upon arrival, my heart had slowed to a much less scary 91bpm, though still experiencing a buzzing numbness, I was slowly regaining the ability to move my hands. After normal chest x-ray and blood work revealed I did not have a heart attack, we knew it was, as I suspected, a panic attack. A term I had heard used in the past to refer to low level anxiety, a term now too benign to equal the terrifying experience I just lived thru. This was BY FAR even more traumatic than the vehicle accident that caused it. Now I have anxiety about having another anxiety attack. Devastatingly ironic isn't it? Toss yet another trauma onto my quickly growing pile this month.
