in which i fail Being a Person 101

this is not a post about my failing on some powerful level – i’m not talking about reexamining my moral fiber or trying to understand some horrible mistake i’ve made.

this is about me. last night. nearly passing out after i inhaled water while laughing.

legit. you can ask my roommates. they were there.

let’s start at the beginning, shall we, maria?

hey, she’s awfully enthusiastic about my near-death experience. i’m not sure if i should be offended.

right. so, last night, while drinking my umpteenth glass of water before bed, i was in the living room chatting with two of my roommates. one of them said something that made me laugh.

ordinarily, this does not lead to my nearly dying.

last night, i had just taken a sip of water when i laughed. i am fairly certain everyone knows you should spit the water out if this happens. for reasons beyond me, i did not. the water, that tiny liquid bastard, lodged itself in my throat and i quickly realized that, uh, i could not breathe. i darted into my bathroom making horrifying choking sounds and flailing at my neck in the universal “OH GOD IT HURTS I AM DYING” gesture. we’ll skip over the part where i’m in my bathroom wondering if i’m going to die and trying to not pass out. there definitely was a moment where i looked in the mirror and my reflection talked to me about how i could not have “could not handle drinking water” on my death certificate. i made enough noise that another roommate comes flying out of her room, yelling “who is choking? i know the heimlich maneuver!!”, as i made my way to the door in time to say, “i’m fine, i’m just seeing spots everywhere”.

which, in retrospect, does not sound terribly reassuring.

at that point, we determined that if i was talking, i was fine.

my roommate M asked that i leave a note on the whiteboard letting him know i was alive this morning (in case, you know, the water came back and killed me in my sleep. they’d need to find a new roommate). i wrote “tess did not die” on the board, much to the confusion of the one roommate who slept through all of this.

the moral of the story here is that my doctor telling me to hydrate is actually going to kill me. and that i’m glad roommate C knows how to save me if (when) this happens again. and i’m not allowed to laugh again.



p.s. this gets categorized under “being a grown-up” because i want it to remind me that i sort of fail at this “being a grown-up” thing.

p.p.s. i now have “do re mi” stuck in my head.