Okay … here I am in my 70s.  The body doesn’t always work right.  No “Poor Me”.  It’s just what’s so.

Two nights ago, an hour after supper, I felt something I didn’t recognize – my throat was tightening.  Then I’d belch a few times and it loosened, gradually followed by a retightening.  I took two antacid pills and eventually fell asleep.

Yesterday evening I was watching the third Mission Impossible movie, fantasizing about being Tom Cruise.  I heard my voice say “Why not have an Avocat?”  It’s a thick yellow and delicious liqueur.  A few sips later my throat again.  My esophagus was being coated.  More antacids, more burping, needing to swallow every ten seconds.

I often get scared when my body reacts.  A few months ago, I was choking in a Ghent restaurant – no air, probable death I unreasoned.  Many years ago in Canada I twice had a procedure where a balloon is inserted in the esophagus and inflated.  Both times it opened things up nicely.

I lay down on my bed, wondering what Tom Cruise would do.  No sleep.  I panicked.  “What happens if the saliva keeps building up when I’m asleep?  Do I die?”  (Oh, Bruce … please grow up sometime)

12:30.  “Go to Emergency”  >  “It’s not an emergency”  >  “Go!  You’re not a doctor”

There’s a hospital a 15-minute walk from home – AZ Sint-Lucas.  I thought they had an Emergency Department.  But I didn’t know the Flemish word.  I was navigating Google Maps with a crazy mind.

Spoed!  I created the route you see, starting on the Oudburg at the grey dot and ending at Emergency.  The blue route was fastest.  “Why isn’t there a direct route?  What’s wrong with Google Maps?”

Nothing.  I needed to do what was being asked.

The world was quiet and dark as I walked, swallowing all the while.  Next was a kind receptionist, a kind nurse and a kind doctor – all women.  They calmed me down.  The doctor gave me the phone number of a gastrointestinal specialist and told me to come back if the swallowing effort became more intense.  I’ll make an appointment on Wednesday since Tuesday (today) is a holiday. 

3:30 … to bed.  A very active throat for three hours, no sleep.

Clothes back on.  Again through the streets – now lightening.

Lying in a hospital bed awaiting the doctor.  Here comes Pedro, and I immediately got it: he’ll do everything in his power to help me.  As I told him my story, the blossoming of saliva was accompanied by nausea, dizziness and a loose selection of words.

I asked Pedro about my fear of dying if I fell asleep with growing saliva in my mouth.  No judgment from him, just knowledge: the body’s gag reflex will prevent that from happening.  And such empathy from the young man.  Human beings are good.

Now for the tests: four blood samples, ECG, scans of my lungs and throat.  An IV drip, something for the nausea.

And two hours to wait for the results.  I asked for a blanket and did my best imitation of a fetus.  Cozy, covered to the chin, SAFE.

First I lay on my back.  At least ten times I nodded off and then sprang alert seconds (?) later.  On my side was far better and soon I was off to uninterrupted dreamland.

Pedro came to visit and didn’t wake me as I slept.  A good man.  The second time I was awake and he told me that all my test results were good.  Yay!  But something is going on with the gastrointestinal system and hence the specialist appointment.

***

It’s hours later now.  I’m sad that I’m old now, and that my night was a mess.  And I’m happy to be Bruce in the universe.

Today I’ve eaten sole for lunch and sushi for dinner.  No saliva building.  No constant swallowing.  A deep sleep hopefully awaits …