| I almost died a few days ago, Axios' Danielle Jones writes. - I'm a relatively healthy person. I've quit, cold turkey: sodas, cigarettes, meat and, most recently, booze. I'm vaccinated and I minimize risks.
- But an unexpected thing happened, something I never in 50 years prepared for.
I was surrounded by 1,000 people gathered for a Halloween-themed fundraising luncheon. - And, in all seriousness: I almost choked to death on a piece of lettuce.
Why it matters: I spend a lot of time living in fear. I have anxiety about most things, especially the future. - But if you had asked me to name the least dangerous thing I could think of, I may well have said a serving of mixed greens.
And yet there I was — unable to breathe, people screaming, doctors rushing, a Heimlich maneuver that didn't work the first few tries. - They said my eyes were "gone." And that's just the tip of the Iceberg.
- I remember thinking: This is it. And then I remember thinking: What an embarrassing way to die.
But it wasn't my time. The lettuce dislodged. A thousand people applauded as I stood, in shock, in a witch's hat. Friends cried. People continue to message. My lifesaver is bonded for life. - I'm still between laughter and tears. I'm grateful. I'm in awe of how kind humans can be. I'm scared to eat alone. I have what my brother calls "post-traumatic salad disorder."
D.J., in witch's hat, after her close call. Photo courtesy Danielle Jones 🖼️ The big picture: "Strange how people can be so preoccupied with a life they cannot hold onto and neglect an eternity they cannot run away from." It's a quote my pastor shared recently, and it's something I keep thinking about. - We get preoccupied with not dying — and forget to live.
My husband has cancer that's unlikely to be cured, and it's like a game of whack-a-mole: It pops up, we hit it with treatment, and then we wait for it to pop up somewhere else. - What I've realized: For all of us, life is just series of whack-a-mole.
- Every time we walk away — from COVID complications, a car collision, sudden surgery or a bed of leafy romaine — we have whacked another mole.
The key is to appreciate the in-between parts — and to worry less about whatever mole is going to pop up next. The bottom line: I've been given a new leaf on life. I've survived salad. And I want to be less wasteful with the time I have left. - "If you ever do succumb to salad," my stepson wrote, "I get dibs on saying 'Lettuce pray' at your funeral."
And maybe if I spend more time focused on the present, then whenever my time does come, it will be easier to swallow. - No matter what, I'm giving up salads.
Share this story. | 
No comments:
Post a Comment