Brushes with death...

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cypocryphy

cypocryphy

Deader than the parents on "Party Of Five"
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
Joined
Feb 3, 2013
So, I've had 2..

One was on the day I was born. My Mom had a C-section and when they pulled me out my umbilical cord was wrapped around my little neck a bunch of times. The doctor had to hurry up and unwrap it before I croaked or suffered brain damage. I also mentioned that I had the record for longest umbilical cord in New Jersey for a long time...

Second was when I was in 8th grade. My family didn't have a carbon monoxide detector for the longest time, so my Grandmother bought one for my family. And about 2 weeks later it goes off one night. So if she hadn't bought it for us my whole family and I would have died in our sleep.

Anybody else have any good ones?
 
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Similarly, I was also pretty much born dead. I don't know the details, because my ma got really upset when telling me the story and I haven't asked since. But I know I spent a couple of weeks in PICU.

Apart from that I've been really lucky. If paranoia and anxiety are good for anything, then they're certainly good for keeping you out of potentially dangerous situations.
 
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Apparently after I was born I had trouble with my lungs, so I had to be put in this large breathing machine that simulated a diaphragm for a few days. My parents didn't know if I was going to survive past a week but apparently the doctors weren't really worried and there was actually little cause for alarm.
 
This is going to be a long story, but there are parts of it that I remember so vividly

When I was four years old, my parents took my brother and I to a daycare. It was for the most part a good place during the time before I was there until one person for lunch gave me some PB&J and I took a bite and I said I didn't really like it and ate my green beans and corn. For the next hour my skin started feeling irritated and my throat and my chest and later my organs felt tight (later I found out because a lot of symptoms I express tend to be more internal, but it is still just as dangerous since your blood pressure is dropping dangerously low and your intestines and other organs are constricting and can get damaged) yet I could still breathe from what I recall, I don't usually have problems breathing until the very late stages of anaphylaxis like the reaction that diagnosed me. The caretakers did not really think anything about it until we were sitting on the floor doing some group thing and I vividly remember me sitting in a blue beanbag chair and my blood pressure dropped to the point where I became semi-unconcious. Since I was in the back, they didn't notice until they realized I couldn't get up when the activity was over so what would a person do in a life-threatening emergency? Herd all the other kids away from the scene to some nearby dance studio next to the center that they used from time to time and called my parents and boy, according to my mother, that was the most pissed off times she has been in her life for them not calling 911 and not paying attention enough. So they do that and I'm kind of in a weird state right now, for the most part it was black, but once it a while I was able to open my eyes and see, but I was completely paralyzed can't couldn't stand up. I remember staring mostly at this one special 101 Dalmations figurine on a shelf near the door I was planning to play with later if this didn't happen and also the feelings of confusing and why I couldn't move my body or even my head to look at the hamster or pretty much anything other than the area by that figurine.

I kind of waved in and out of consciousness the whole time until some paramedic knelt next to me to check my blood pressure with what I thought at the time was a pretty fancy black blood pressure device that digitally displayed numbers in bright red and I saw some guys bringing in a gurney and they gave me the epipen in my thigh. I don't really remember then stabbing me since I probably drifted out again or something. My mother arrived on the scene and she recalled my abdomen being swollen and unconcious and then me breaking out in hives and my throat closing when the epipen was administered, all the classic symptoms so they had to give me stuff intervenously on the way to the hospital. I remember being able to walk again once my blood pressure stabilized and being all excited over standing up and my brother looking behind us shouting "mama!" as we were leaving and for the rest of the day, as far as what I remember, I felt no different than before the sandwich and vividly remember running and jumping through the hallways like any antsy kid would and also just my mother being pissed for the next few days and telling my brother and me we are not going back there again.

Ever since then during my childhood, I'd usually spend time at my grandparent's or aunts as daycare centers were no longer trusted by my parents and I later got a medical alert bracelet and was educated about my allergy since as a small child, I was very much unaware about my medical conditions. I memorized what the bracelet said and did not get another until I was 15 when I was on a ski trip and unrefined peanut oil (since the super-refined stuff has the allergens removed and why sometimes you'll find peanut oil in the ingrediants list, but not the FDA allergen warning about the food containing peanuts or any other of the major allerges, it's because it is super-refined cold-pressed peanut oil that is stripped of the allergens) was in the salad dressing at the restaurant friends and I were eating at, which ruined my trip, but it didn't get to this stage when I was fading like that.

Keep in mind this was the early-mid 90s before severe food allergies really became super-mainstream and a lot of peanut substitutes were not as widespread and were restricted to healthfood stores that were very pricey and also less nut brands . Now there is a cure that is close to coming out if not already came out, but it's still a good idea to look at some of the long-term studies. As much as it has been a part of me for so long, it would be nice not to constantly have to ask what everything is at potlucks. So yeah, I probably will after it's been out for a while.

woah, this is really, really long...
 
Had a near-miss with an IED.

Then, right when I got home from Iraq, I was visiting my family in Florida with my brand-new car that I'd bought with deployment money. I went to my grandmother's house and parked underneath a large, old tree, the type of Southern tree that has branches weighing several hundred pounds. I went out to my car to get something I forgot, and slammed the door. I then took a few steps away . . . and one of those massive branches came crashing down right behind me, right were I'd been standing a moment before. It was so heavy that it bent the frame of my vehicle. That was a bit of a pants-pisser.
 
Two stories. First one is kinda long and complicated. Feel free to ask me questions.

When I was in 1st grade I got really sick and was hospitalized. This wouldn't have been too big a deal (I had already been hospitalized a lot by that time because I had super severe asthma as a kid (still do, just not quite as bad) and would be hospitalized over a dozen more times because of it throughout my childhood) except my symptoms didn't correspond to a severe flu. Tests were ran, but were inconclusive. Since it could've been my appendix however I had an operation to have it removed (on a somewhat irrelevant note, finding out I'd have to have an appendectomy made me freak the fuck out because my sister had a computer game called Life & Death in which you played a surgeon, but she was terrible and always killed the patient, and it was always an appendectomy).

I had surgery and it turns out my appendix is completely healthy. My intestines are examined as well, but nothing appears to be abnormal. The surgeons aren't sure what else to do so they conclude the surgery. I continue to grow sicker. On top of my mystery illness, I develop pneumonia as a complication from the surgery and become sicker still.

It's worth noting at this point that I was given minimal pain medications after my appendectomy. I was in agony just laying in the bed. Movement was significantly worse, but I was not allowed medication that would actually lessen the pain and make it easier for me to move (and, you know, speed my recovery).

My pneumonia is treated and I recover from surgery but as none of the doctors can figure out what the fuck is wrong with me, they plan to airvac me to Denver to be examined there. My mom refuses to allow them to fly me there (damned if I know why) and insists she'll drive me to Denver in a few days (I really don't know why, it's a day away from Rapid City). The doctors agree for some reason, and in that time I actually grow considerably better. I still travel to Denver and am examined by multiple specialists, but none of them can diagnose me with any known illness. I made a full recovery, though to this day we still have no clue why I got sick, or how I recovered.

Oh well. At least I never have to worry about appendicitis. On a side note, I missed a literal month of school in the process.

Second story. Remember when I said I had super severe asthma? That's not an exaggeration. Colds, flu, allergies, exercise, excitement, and even laughter are triggers for me. When I was twelve I came down with a cold and asthma soon followed. It didn't seem as bad as other instances seeing as how I wasn't hospitalized, but that changed quite suddenly. At around midnight my asthma flares up. It hadn't been four hours since I had my medicine (asthma medicine ideally is administered every four hours or longer), but I was really having difficulties breathing so we use the medicine. Not only it fail to open my airways, I actually grew considerably worse. We tried again, but my condition continued to quickly deteriorate. I was gasping for air, and my lips were turning blue.

At this point, my mom realized I need to get to the ER immediately and called 911, which she had never done before. While mom is on the phone I became dizzy, lightheaded, and apparently drifted in and out of consciousness, because I have a hard time remembering the paramedics arriving at our house. Or the ride in the ambulance. Or arriving at the ER. Or being administered pure oxygen and a huge dose of asthma medicine. What I do remember is suddenly being properly aware I was in an ER bed, breathing oxygen and more asthma medicine. And I could breathe! I stayed in the ER for several hours (with oxygen the entire time) before, surprisingly, being cautiously discharged and allowed go home. After some days I got better and my asthma subsided.

As an adult my asthma isn't quite as bad as when I was a kid, but I do have the same triggers. So I always make sure to take my inhaler with me whenever I leave the house.

So, uh, there you have it. My two brushes with death. The tl;dr versions are 1) I had a severe, mysterious illness and doctors never found a diagnoses (and I had an appendectomy during the diagnoses process) but I spontaneously recovered and 2) I have horrible asthma and one time it almost killed me.
 
One time at boy scouts at the end of our last night's "pow wow" everyone was told to guide each other back to camp. This mean that someone behind you was supposed to shine their flash light in front of you to follow the next guy, kinda like a train... thing. Well the guy behind me was a dick and led me right off the path. I kept walking and suddenly realized I had walked away from the group. Little eight year old me then spent the next three hours trying to find the camp back in the dark of the forest. When they say that boy scouts lose some kids sometimes, they mean it and I could have been just another statistic.

Another time I was say, maybe five, I had a been making a penut butter sandwich and had dropped the jelly jar. The jar seemed fine, so I made my sandwich anyway. It was crunchier than usual, wasn't sure why until I finished the whole thing. Apparently I had been eating glass that entire time and was lucky I didn't shred up my stomach from the inside.

Driving around on the freeway can be fucking scary. Like, watching the repair truck in the lane to the left of me suddenly lose it's crowbar to the traffic behind it. I could have been that guy with a crowbar to the face suddenly. Or the time I had to call 911 because while in the left turning lane, someone smashes their car on the straight lane next to me and I basically watch them die. Wonder why I haven't been to therapy for that one.

Oh another boy scouts one, me and this guy were trekking along a mountainside when suddenly my foot caught into a pile of rocks and suddenly I'm on a ton of little rocks with no way to hoist myself or get balance, and if the rocks felt like it could have dropped me to the valley below. The guy with me contemplated saving me or not. I wish I was kidding.

Maybe there's more I've suppressed like when I lived in the drug house, or just forgot in general. Those are some that stick out to me.
 
I remember one time, in my family's vacation house, a wild dog ended up around the property, but no one saw it. I was playing around one day near the fences when I spotted it, and it got inside the property. In a flash of a second, it started running to me in a very hostile way.

I am pretty sure what happened to me was a fight-or-flight trigger thing. My insticts chose flight.

And I spent the whole day crying about it.
 
I too was born with the cord around my neck, which Dr. Hottie (my mom's OBGYN was really handsome) cut off me with a scalpel. My dad told me the whole story about two years ago, I never knew that they were so scared, the story was always just sort of something that was known but never elaborated on.
 
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Well. If I hadn't smelled the leaking gas from an improperly connected propane valve on a grill before flicking a lighter on one December eening, I'd have been the one who got barbecued. There's my story.
 
When I was in elementary school, I would walk home and one day - I remember specifically this was after we got home a bit late from a field trip - I was crossing the street and this woman almost hit me with her car. Like, there was an inch between my leg and her bumper after she stopped. It wasn't like I dilly-dallied across the street either; she had a stop sign that she was clearly going to blow right through.
She must've crapped her briefs because she was asking me if I was okay and was practically in tears and I got really snotty at her and walked away...only to go home and hyperventilate for a while. I never told anyone in my house that story because I thought they'd never let me walk home again.
 
Choked on a chicken nugget that I tried to swallow whole when I was 11. :story:

When I was maybe 12 or 13, I was biking back to my dad's cabin with... my dad. Anyway, I had a slurpee in one hand, and when I went over the train tracks, I lost balance and fell over. There were two cars right behind us when I fell. If they hadn't stopped, I could've been killed. Or just seriously hurt.

Damn, even my brushes with death aren't interesting.
 
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When I was three a neighbor girl was spinning around in circles with an aluminum bat. She let go of the bat which flew with incredible force from the momentum of the spinning, which then struck me in the side of the head. I don't remember much (what with being so young and having just been struck in the head with a bat) I just remember a lot of blood and an overwhelming feeling of not being able to stay awake. My mom bundled me up in a blanket and I had emergency surgery to sew my head back together, which had apparently been torn and crushed. Anyways I've had a lot of problems from that injury ranging from temporary deafness to a loss of fine motor skills, which doesn't impact me too badly since I'm in the line of manual labour. I also have little impulse control and can sometimes fly into a wild rage with little provocation because my brains aren't all there sometimes but I mostly have that under control.
 
Basically ages 4-12 for me were one continuous brush with death. My mother was on a first name basis with the people in the ER. (I wasn't sick or anything, I was just an uncoordinated spaz who ingested far, far too much sugar and was infatuated with heights.)


Seriously though, about 5 years ago, a 400 lb black bear and I surprised each other one day while I was walking my property line. To call that situation "surreal" doesn't cover it. We were right on top of each other. Luckily nothing happened (well, aside from a lot of posturing and noise from both of us before doing exactly nothing and walking off... kinda like a bro argument in a bar.)

I ended up having to "perma-ban" him from my property about a month later.
 
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Let's see. Within an hour of being born (which almost killed my mother all on its own) I developed pneumonia and had both of my lungs collapse. I had to be rushed to a different hospital with a neonatal unit, and even then the doctors weren't too optimistic. It didn't help that I wasn't making things easy for them; when they inserted tubes into my lungs to try and re-inflate them I thrashed around and ripped one out. They had to strap my arms down to the table after that little incident.

Ripping the tube out also gave me a pretty noticeable scar on my chest. It's pretty much a divot a good quarter inch deep.
 
Oh hell, where to start?

I used to be an amateur foundryman/blacksmith/custom fabricator who specialized in powdered aluminum & thermite castings. I've been on fire more times than I can remember. Caught three pieces of ceramic shrapnel in my left leg from a crucible that went tits-up on me and exploded- I heard pieces winging past my head. I ended up inadvertently starting a plasma-reaction fire in my backyard once. I caught aluminum dust poisoning while machining castings one cold night in my shop once. I almost melted myself one time boiling down car batteries one time while home-brewing etching acid, I had an experimental air-cannon HESH (High Energy Squash Head) round once ricochet back on me and knock me through my shop door, assorted derp-ups reloading ammunition, I once had to shoot an automated whip that got loose from the workbench clamps & was beating the shop to death (long story).

Moving on to my professional work. I' was almost crushed when I was driving a forklift & after lifting up a four ton pallet of break drums up to the shelf it went on, the pallet disintegrated & it all of a sudden was raining 200 lb truck parts. I one almost got boiled when I had a HPHW/steam line break on an automated dishwasher system, I once spent half a shift under a pallet of crushed sheetrock after the wind knocked me off a roof while roofing, I had a D-9 bulldozer almost squish me as it tumbled down a steep hill sideways.

Been shot at three times, and been in two knife fights.
 
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Oh also, once when I was 16, I told my dad to go fuck himself...

Avengers-Hulk-Loki-1337008016.gif
 
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I was hanging out with friends back in the fall, and at one point we were trying to get out of the city we were in. We had to turn around on one of the bridges due to detour and nearly got hit head on by another vehicle.
 
Some JERK said:
Basically ages 4-12 for me were one continuous brush with death. My mother was on a first name basis with the people in the ER. (I wasn't sick or anything, I was just an uncoordinated spaz who ingested far, far too much sugar and was infatuated with heights.)


Seriously though, about 5 years ago, a 400 lb black bear and I surprised each other one day while I was walking my property line. To call that situation "surreal" doesn't cover it. We were right on top of each other. Luckily nothing happened (well, aside from a lot of posturing and noise from both of us before doing exactly nothing and walking off... kinda like a bro argument in a bar.)

I ended up having to "perma-ban" him from my property about a month later.
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I hear black bears aren't all that large or that dangerous, and they are more like big pigs than anything else. Arent you supposed to wave your arms around and yell at it, and back away slowly? never turn around and run?

something tells me it wouldnt have been all ok if you saw a grizzly or mountain lion..
 
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