slowly surely + xyz : a journey of (re)discovery

I AM. Hydrated

By InspiredJourney


The previous night was showing a possible complication of mixing being fruity, heat and alcohol.

As a result of primarily eating fruit, coupled with not being much of a drinker, becoming intoxicated was only a few sips away, would and did easily lend itself to a hangover. And thus, this day was a rough one.

I remember going back to the double room, putting my things away, turning on the ceiling fan before drifting off to sleep that late morning. It circulated heated air, but that was better than sitting or laying in a room I experienced as a ridiculously oversized Easy Bake oven.

I did something I don’t care to during the middle of the day. I slept.

About an hour later, I woke later to hearing metal pings. It was the ceiling fan.

Electing to not expose every horrible detail about this place, I opted to not mention having to rig the ceiling fan. A chicken and egg conundrum, the fan had been installed, or shall I say the wall built after the fact was positioned an inch or less from the wide blades. Either way, it was all bad.

When I first turned it on, one, only one of the three metal blades would clang against the wall, loudly. So much so, I rushed to shut it off, for fear the whole unit would dislodge and come crashing down, slicing me up in the process.

I look up and noticed the fan had been poorly installed, and was off-balanced, and wobbling around.

Once the blades came to a stop, I stood atop a table to get a closer look.

It was attached to a pipe that was much narrower in diameter than the base of the fan. I was limited in how high up I could read to see the exact place it was rigged, and elected to overlap a long piece of strong of my beading thread. I had it and some beads with me, so that if I felt moments of creativity come over me, I’d have some supplies to express that.

Using this, I was able to pull and tie the fan away from the wall, in a way that was knotted well enough that it would hold that position. At some point they’ll have to deal with it. For the time I was there, it was enough to feel safe it would dislodge, crash and mangle me in my sleep.

So, laying there, I felt a hot and dizzy. My head was swimming. Next: nausea.

You know that moment of realizing the contents of your stomach are about to make there debut? I was there.

I despise throwing up. I do. With my entire being I hate it.

I am coward in this area. I get nervous and cry when vomiting.

I lay there conversing with myself.

I feel that tingling and tightening feeling, indicating my salivary glands are beginning to produce more than normal saliva as if I’m holding and about to eat a wedge of lemon. I feel that tingling sensation  I tell myself this doesn’t have to happen. I negotiate with my brain, asking it to knock it off, that I don’t really want to do this. I try remaining as still as possible. I didn’t want to exacerbate the situation and upset my balance, by adding to my dizziness.

I lay there.

After several minutes of negotiating with myself, I think: Okay, you’re good. You’re okay to sit up.

Well aware a I had collected what felt like ‘just a bit more than normal’ of saliva between my cheeks, I knew emptying my mouth was in order.

I slowly raise myself. Just as I’m nearing a fully upright position, I FEEL A BIT OF DRIBBLE ESCAPE THE RIGHT CORNER OF MY MOUTH!!!

Lawdamercy.

Laying horizontal during the negotiation phase had deceived me of the amount of fluid that had rushed my mouth.

I rushed to get my shoes on and to the nearest patch of grass to expel all o’ dis.

Yes, a tad TMI I know. However, committed I am, to sharing my reality in this space: Slowly Surely + xyz.

Fortunately, there was no mess, and I wrapped up that part of the day tidying up for Le Rendezvous.

 

 



2 responses to “I AM. Hydrated”

  1. […] But first, when fruit and liquor and heat combine and expose your mere mortalness. […]

  2. […] my ‘near death moment‘, I sat at 69 lost in watching the news of current political events, when I noticed an […]

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