I've been a fan of Jenni's blog for a long while, even though I don't read it everyday, I always come back. I've seen many a bloggy friend participate in #blogtember and I love to write, so here we go.
Today's prompt is:A story about a time you were very afraid.
Easy. Anytime that I've been unable to breathe. I mean like, literally, not being able to breathe. No air flowin through the airway. There are perks to being ventilator dependent such as having a filter on the vent to weed out the yuckies in the air. Or the fact that I can sleep with a pillow on top of my face (maybe it comforts me like that of when I was in my mom's womb?! haha) and I won't suffocate! love that.
However, a scary thing about being on the vent is that,
1. it's a machine. they can fail.
2. the circuit aka plastic tubing has many parts and sometimes they come apart or fail too.
3. it's literally like breathing through a Mcdonald's straw. That's about how big the trache is in my throat. Now, when my airways get really dry, that thickens the mucus which means the inner cannula, inside the trache gets clogged (super gross btw, i know) and my airway is completely cut off!
It's super scary to try to gasp for breathe when that's blocked, while I am waiting for a caregiver to change my inner cannula or squirt saline water down my trache to break up that dry phlegm. Those seconds feel like minutes and my clock is ticking. I can only breathe on my own, provided I am calm and not full from eating, for maybe 20 seconds.
With experiencing times like these, I feel So So so grateful to God for when i can breathe well again. I get stuck in a rut of thinking that the ventilator is keeping me alive, true, but in reality, God is the one who gives us every breathe of life and he's the one that keeps me going. This epiphany was made clearer to me through my friend HL.
and because i might have a slightly warped sense of humor, i leave you with this: