We all have one. A day. The day. The day where something in our lives changed drastically forever. For me, May 14, 2005 was that day.
The morning started off with the usual routine. I took my thyroid
medication for my Hypo-thyroidism. Then I took a new pill, 40mgs of
Celexa. I had been having severe anxiety issues and had asked my new
doctor if I could get back onto an anti-depressant. After an evaluation
she agreed that I ought to be on one. So I began my treatment. And after
that, the details become so very clear.
It was approximately 8:00 a.m. when I took the Celexa.
Exactly 2/12 hours later at 10:30 a.m. as I sat on the couch watching
Rolie Polie Olie with my kids I began to feel a little nauseated. I
went back to the bathroom thinking I would throw up but then the wave
dissipated. I sat back onto the couch when another wave hit, this one
twice as strong and with it came the feeling that I was losing
consciousness. Suddenly I felt something was very wrong.
My arms were pulsing with warmth. Warmth shot from my head down to my
toes. Every muscle in my body began quivering. I dialed my husband to
tell him to come home. He could tell I sounded panicked and tried to
talk me through what I was feeling. As I started talking to him my body
calmed down slightly but towards the end of our conversation that
jolting nausea accompanied by struggling to keep conscious surfaced. I
told him I was passing out. Then I screamed into the phone that I was
dying. I was sure if I lost consciousness I would be dead.
After I hung up the phone I found myself shaking violently again. I
knelt down on the floor desperately trying to retch. But I couldn’t. My
children were nearby asking me what was wrong. I just told them to watch
the TV.
The shaking and zinging feelings shooting from my head and into my
arms got worse and worse. I couldn’t even stand. With a prayer on my
lips I crawled into the hallway until I couldn’t crawl anymore and
curled up next to the bathroom. I couldn’t stop the trembling that had
consumed my body. I felt so sick but I couldn’t throw up. My kids came
into the hallway and hovered near me and I told them how much I loved
them. Then I prayed that my husband would get home soon enough after I
had died that they wouldn’t get into any major trouble running around
the house on their own.
To be continued…
P.S. I have to continue it. I can’t write anymore. I thought I had
worked up the courage to share this story but I’m actually shaking as I
relive it.
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