My brilliant niece came through for me and fixed my blog, so it's back to business . . .
So, you may recall that a few weeks ago I nearly choked to death. Really. As in "to death." Like in "never to roam the earth again in flesh and bones." (Although, I am sure that I would visit in spirit - have your EMF detectors handy.)
I joke a little about it now, but at the time it was very serious and very traumatic - - for me and my family who were there, watching me choke. And it still is serious, and yesterday I realized that it truly was traumatic for me. I had another little choking experience, alone in the basement where I work, and although it wasn't serious and I knew I wasn't going to die, it was still very very scary and I almost panicked. I know what you're thinking. "Why doesn't she just chew her food??" I do. Honest. But it was then that I knew that PTSD is real. And for all who have suffered traumatic life experiences, I am sorry. And I kind of get it, albeit in a small way. And I also realized that with each life experience we have, whether big or small, we can feel a little closer to one another, a little more empathetic, a little more compassionate.
And I also realized that I am never going to eat anything again that I can't sip though a straw . . . ever.