which btw is a very strange and good book, but I am in the throes of a deep and geeky romance….
I just got my Questia account back, an unforseen perk to one of the courses I am currently taking. If you don’t know what Questia is you should take a peek. It is an online library of books and journals, mostly professional and scholarly but the intensely fabulous thing about it is it functions a bit like an ereader in which you can maintain notes and footnotes etc and so forth as you progress in your research.
Immediately my worry is “does the account end when I complete the course? how long then can I drag the course out while I research other things?”
I spent most of the morning fine-tuning the Art of Rhyme show, it is slightly intense. If you listen I would reccm’d just listening and then come back to the archive recording and the posted transcript to really start to play around with things.
Now I am trying to catch up and get ready for the Alzheimer broadcast this Weds.
now yesterday I had a bit of a reminder about something that had kind of …fallen by the wayside for me, not by the way side, but sort of…well, I forgot about it a little bit
Do you remember about two years ago when I was in that natural gas accident and got the lung damage and had to do all that PT to learn how to breathe again with struggling and basically had to flee high altitudes because I just couldn’t breathe there anymore?
Well, here at almost sea level, things have been much more easy going on me. I think I have made enormous progress in not only re-learning breathing but increasing my lung capacity. In other words, I thought I was doing just fine.
yesterday I had to spend 3 hours in an oxygen enriched environment. Now, I knew that this is what I was going into but never even considered that there might be a problem. Within 20 minutes I began to have severe pains and difficulty breathing. I did not know that people with lung damage can begin to experience a “oxygen toxicity” reaction in enriched environments.
Let me tell you…first I thought I was dying, and then I started to panic, and then I started to wonder how the hell I could get out of there and then…I remembered what it felt like – it felt like those first few months after the accident when I would go up to high in altitude and all the PT kicked in and I was able to calm myself, regain my breathing and change what I was doing so that I didn’t place myself in physical stress.
It sort of gives me an answer as to whether or not I can go tooting off for a vacation mountain climbing again and sadly, makes me wonder if I am going to be restricted to small hills with snowshoeing.
I also came back inexplicably sick, surly and just a wreck. Until today, when I could think it through and realized why my whole body suddenly felt like it had been slammed up and down a staircase.
Its funny how you think you would “never forget how (blank) felt like” until you feel it again. Part of the way our minds protect us is to allow us to forget or to blank out that which is traumatic or, to lessen the degree of details with which we remember them.
In the past few weeks I have been placed in several positions in which I had to “remember” what something was really like. Not the sweetly sanitized and slightly funny kind of memories that they become as one heals from something and yet still retains a connection to them, but a raw, back in the moment kind of return except – I am not the same person I was at that time.
Like that accident…would I have made the same choices as who I am now, that I did then that kept me trapped in that area for 3 hours with those other people when I could have escaped that? Yes, probably. But as who I am now, I would have handled the after very differently.
How do I know this? Because I am choosing to return to that environment I was in yesterday again rather then pass it off to someone else. However, as the person I am now, I will begin orienting myself and my expectations before I enter that room so that I can handle it physically and emotionally, I will make sure that I am in a good position to handle the inherent whacked outness that will come after.
After all, once you are aware you are being alittle whacky, it kind of deflates the balloon.
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