I'm allergic to cats, dogs, kangaroos, peaches, and cherries. I've been taking allergy meds so my wife could get a service dog without killing me. Been taking the meds for about six months.
Last week we picked up the dog He's adorable, pretty smart, somewhat normal-dog trained, and definitely not service-ready. His professional training will begin later this month. I believe he can succeed assuming my wife doesn't die from exhaustion before he can learn to keep her alive.
Last week I also made fruit salad for a picnic, and included peaches and cherries (peaches, cherries, nectarines, oranges, honeycrisp apples, red grapes, cantaloupe, honeydew, watermelon, strawberries, blueberries, banana, and I used all-natural concentrated grape juice for sweetener, my wife didn't let me add grapefruit, and I forgot to add the damn pineapple).
Over the weekend I ate fruit salad, and I've been slobbered on by the dog all week, with no signs of any allergic reaction.
The last time I ate cherries, I had to get meds to stop my throat from closing up, and cherries are my favorite fruit.
Anyway, I was feeling pretty good about conquering my immune system, and we had a whole bag of cherries left, so just now I decided to eat some cherries as a snack.
Well, it looks like I've been pissing in my immune system's eye, and it just blinked.
My daughter had left to get veggies for the guinea pigs (no, not allergic to them, but the orchard grass is a little troublesome, and Timothy Hay is completely intolerable). My wife and her dog are sleeping.
I stopped eating the cherries as soon as I started feeling a bit off. No symptoms other than the slightest itch in the left side of my bottom lip.
I'm not concerned about dying. I'm not allowed to kill myself because I made a stupid promise to my wife years ago. However, this would be an accident, and I've pointed out to her that just because I'm not allowed to off myself on purpose, I don't have to submit to any life-saving efforts. She tried to argue with me about that, but I played the bodily autonomy card and she had to concede the point.
Anyway, my unlikely death isn't really what I'm concerned with right now.
It just occurred to me that if I think the end is coming, there's an opportunity to have some really cool final words, but I can't think of anything.
"I was thinking of the immoral words of Socrates, who said, '...I drank what?'"
Val Kilmer as Chris Knight in 'Real Genius'
My question for you lemmings is, what are some cool final words for me to say?
Also, for anyone concerned, as I finish this post, I'm feeling now like my immune system has decided that flushing out my digestion is the best course of action. So death doesn't seem to be in the cards today, although I might end up wishing it was.
First: Get a fucking epipen. For fucks sake.
Not only do they prevent you from dying, they also prevent a fate much worse: Almost dying.
Because when you're dead,well,you're dead. Unless you believe in something none can prove there is nothing.
What is proven and a literal hell on earth for you and your loved ones is you getting bad enough to need resuscitation, but barely surviving. Being a patient needing a ventilator for the rest of your life. Being locked into your body. Needing nursing 24/7.
Epipens protect you from that.
Other than that:
Please don't do the following - these are actual last words of a patient, an elderly chap who upon me arriving as an ambulance paramedic looked at me with pure fear: "Oh god no, it's really you!" and then coded.
(Tbh, he was really sick before and hypoxia does strange things.
When my doctor assured me that the meds I started taking to keep the dog from killing me would fix my allergies, I got excited and asked if that meant I could eat foods I was allergic to. He responded by writing a scrip for an EpiPen.
My wife has it.
I'd also argue that it would be more important to have a living will than an EpiPen, since there's a lot more than anaphylaxis that can leave you almost dead and burdening your family. Of course, I don't have a living will either.
That's good. I didn't consider the whole, "Listen carefully. I have a fortune hidden away. I want you to know, look in the...[cough] arrrgggh..."
Regarding help... It just isn't for me. White-knuckling my way through existence has been all I've known for my whole life.
All my kids and my friends and everyone else, I tell them to get into therapy and they listen and I'm glad. I just can't do it myself. I'm the transition between my parents who refused to believe in it and my kids who embrace it. I believe in it...for everyone else ;-)
OP, get allergy shots. Seriously. It’s a pain in the ass 2-5 year commitment but after a year I’ve gone from taking two or more antihistamines a day (like, a Zyrtec in the morning and at night, a booster during the day in pollen season, a Benadryl or two if it got really bad) to stop from skinning myself alive with a cheese grater, to one a day like a normal person.
I’m not allowed to kill myself because I made a stupid promise to my wife years ago. However, this would be an accident, and I’ve pointed out to her that just because I’m not allowed to off myself on purpose, I don’t have to submit to any life-saving efforts. She tried to argue with me about that, but I played the bodily autonomy card and she had to concede the point.
I cannot tell if this is a joke or not. Are you ok, OP?
Picture a wave. In the ocean. You can see it, measure it, its height, the way the sunlight refracts when it passes through. And it's there. And you can see it, you know what it is. It's a wave.
And then it crashes in the shore and it's gone. But the water is still there. The wave was just a different way for the water to be, for a little while. You know it's one conception of death for Buddhists: the wave returns to the ocean, where it came from and where it's supposed to be.
It apparently wasn't actually his last words, as is often incorrectly reported to be the case, but something that Oscar Wilde apparently most-likely did say on his deathbed and near the end of his life:
I wrote a letter to my wife telling her all the things I would say if I were dying or dead. this way, should I be dying, we can just be emotionally intimate together for our final moments together.
sometimes words aren't enough to express how we feel. Actions, no matter how small or quiet, speak loud volumes that can fill a lifetime of peace or regret. In my final moments I want to give my wife and our family the peace they deserve. After all, the living suffer needlessly after death.
So, I probably wouldn't have much time to think of anything actually good, so most likely something like "🎶 Fuck this shit I am out 🎶" or "I used Arch Linux, by the way".
Honestly, I like the Arch joke. Past tense. I am dead. If I were to have a tombstone, I'd want this on it, but my opinion on graveyards and funerals is... probably not the usual. I'd want my body to be of most use. Take organs, use it for science, compost it, feed it to animals, whatever reduces the amount of waste it will be, and that's it. Don't spend any money, space and effort on my corpse.
Knowing the type of person I am my last words will be something along the lines of "What are ya going do? Stab me/shoot me?" If I had a choice.....I'm not sure. Depends on how and who I'm with.
If I was smaller, I could imagine my last words ending up as something like, "No, fuck YOU!"
However, I ended up the kind of big that tends to mellow arguments out. People only fight with me on the phone or online.
I never thought of myself as scary, then when I was in college I found out I was accidentally terrifying someone. I found it really baffling. Recently I heard from one of my wife's friends from high school that they thought I was terrifying then too.
I'm good with fish and shellfish, thank goodness. I had a scare a few years ago when I had a reaction after some king crab, but there must have been something else that triggered it.
I'm thinking the reason I didn't have a reaction to the fruit salad was the amount of acid in the juice it was all mixed with. I figure that probably broke down whatever protein I'm allergic to in the peaches and cherries.
I'm often not ok, but lately I have been. Nevertheless, due to the promise, I've never come close to the easy exit.
I am not concerned with what comes after this life, as I'm confident it is the same nothing that came before. Oblivion does not bother me.
I can say with confidence, knowing how bad things have gotten in the past, if it ever gets bad enough for me to break my word, the world can rest assured that my life reached a point of hopeless and irredeemable despair and I am truly better off.