Choking to death on my own spit

Normally, cold and flu season does a bump and run. This year, it has applied the force of a Mack truck and then decided to put the parking brakes on and spin the wheels over us. I feel like we've all just been swapping our germs around amongst ourselves and never truly killing them off.

I've begun to review my whole position regarding filling the bathtub with Lysol and giving everyone a quick dip.

While sitting at the computer trying to get a little bit of genealogy sorted out, I had one of those insidious coughing fits sneak up on me. At first it was minor: coff coff.

No biggie.

Popped in a honey lemon lozenge and life was good - for a while.

Then, a second coughing round. This time a bit more heavy: COFF COFF COFF COOOOOOFFFFF! I am quite certain I have coughed up either a badger or half a lung.

Bright girl that I am, I decided that maybe that annoying tickle just needed to be washed down with a sip or two of cold water. Sip, sip, sip. Aah, that's better!

Lulled into a completely mean-spirited and extremely hateful false sense of security, I turned back to the computer to type in the next name when suddenly my throat was slammed shut with liquidy, gooey weirdness that descending from my sinuses that can only be described as 40 weight spit and or mucus. Unable now to either breathe (kinda important!) OR swallow (getting a big panic going now!), I realized that I was in trouble.

Because I am always concerned about stupid things like people finding me dead in compromised circumstance, I flashed to the clothes I was wearing and truly wished I had on a different shirt. I don't want people to find me dead in my "I'm-only-at-home-so-it-doesn't-matter" dinosaur shirt with all the holes in it great and small... and my track pants were disgustingly dirty but since all I was doing in them was sweating anyway while I exercised, one more bike ride wasn't going to hurt them... and now here I was going to die choking to death on my own spit wearing junky clothes that no one needs to know I own.

Here lies the body of Shelley Merrill who choked to death on her own spit in the most unfashionable ensemble imaginable. Nice. Send in the clowns. Someone needs to enjoy this.

When a tiny hole in the clog opened up and the coughing finally DID start in earnest, I was in deeper distress than I'd like to admit. You see, for women "of a certain age" and for some who have experienced lots of pelvic injury over time, the simple acts of coughing, sneezing and laughing present their own little deadly danger.

Hauling my carcass up from my desk chair, I sputtered and choked and coughed and spit and gagged my way along. Coughing while dragging my zombie like frame arms extended in front of me as I lurched down the hallway to get to the bathroom must certainly have presented a comical sight to anyone who might have been watching. Thankfully, Jared was asleep. I'm sure he would have pointed his finger and laughed because that's just how boys roll.

Staggering into my bathroom to continue the spit flinging festival of grossness while attempting to keep myself from puddling up in other non-exciting ways should be some sort of survival merit badge or something like a small monument with an eternal flame. In any case, I refused adamantly to go quietly into the arms of that soft night while realizing that spit and pee would be the death of me.

Not cool, body, not cool at all.

When the coughing finally stopped and the nose blowing and sneezing that replaced it were over, I realized just how thankful I was to be in the bathroom instead of the living room.

Just at that crucial juncture, Jared's afternoon helper had arrived. Carolyn is much too nice to be compelled to see me in that kind of condition. When I got myself put back together and rinsed my face and washed my hands, I realized my eyes were so bloodshot from the coughing violence that I looked like Ned the Wino and not in a good way.

Making my way back to the living room to the door, I was able to gasp out a feeble "sorry I didn't hear you knock, I was in the bathroom" and to her credit, Carolyn didn't act like I looked like an extra from the "Thriller" video.

Never underestimate the power of bodily fluids to render you completely incapable of managing your life. They are out to get us all.

Just in case that happens again, I'd better get in some practice. Don't want to leave anyone disappointed who might just happen to drop by...

what to do when spit comes for you