What is Happening to Me?
In a recent column, I wrote about trying to drown myself by stupidly swimming out during big surf and getting caught in a rip. But that was only the start of the afternoon.
After crawling out of the sea that day, I stood and shakily returned to my beach chair some 75 yards away, huffing and puffing all the way. I had a meeting at my home in 20 minutes, so I could rest for five minutes to get back my breath, but my cell phone rang. It was one of the meeting attendees who needed to get inside my house to do a Zoom call. This meant I had to leave immediately, and hurried up several sets of stairs, huffing and puffing all the way.
I got there, let my friend in, and hurried upstairs to shower, then he shouted he needed my internet password, so I hustled downstairs to the closet where I hide the password. Huff puff. Hustle back upstairs, shower, people arriving now, quick towel off, huff puff downstairs to greet them, but I’m not feeling so well. I am light-headed and my hands, feet and other extremities are tingling. What’s happening?
Go back upstairs to change. Dash downstairs. Gotta get back my breath but can’t seem to. Huff puff. Now I am becoming dizzy. Lay sort of sideways on my couch. My friend Cindy looks at me and places a hand on my forehead, then says to the others, “He’s clammy, and his color is bad. Hey Mike, do you feel like vomiting?”
From Sam, “Do you think he’s having a heart attack?” That scares the hell out of me, and I slump all the way to the couch, heart racing. What the hell is happening? Am I gonna die?
I blurt out, call the paramedics.
They arrive within minutes, three of them. The lead guy cuffs my arm for blood pressure, places EKG electrode sensors on my chest, then puts an oxygen monitor on my left forefinger. He looks at all of the readouts, says to the other paramedics, “His O2 level is off the charts,” then to me, “Sir, hold your breath.”
Intellectually, I know instantly I am having a Panic Attack. I know all about Panic Attacks because I’ve had them for years. It happens when you unknowingly take into too much oxygen, which makes you dizzy and your limbs tingle, which leads to a “flight or fight” response of adrenaline being pumped throughout your body. That makes you breathe even harder, and now your brain is out of control with fear. Something really bad is happening but you don’t know what. More unfocused fear.
The thing to do is de-oxygenate your blood, which can be done by breathing into a paper bag. I carry them in my car because now I know the symptoms and how to control them.
Without knowing it I had replicated the oxygen overload first at the beach, then huff puffing up the steps, then scrambling from one place to the next at my house. However, I didn’t know it. I kept huffing and puffing even though my body did not need it. So, I went into a total panic attack, but one not caused by the usual circumstances, so I did not understand it.
I panicked, pure and simple. I did it to myself, period.
So, kind folks at my home, I’m sorry. The paramedics quickly departed, and we went on with our meeting, but you kept checking me for the Big One.
Sorry. It was all Mama Ocean’s fault, not mine—or so I tell myself.
Michael is a Laguna Beach resident and principal officer of Laguna Forward PAC.
