Evil Pumpkin Seeds
(Original Post by Marisue also posted at hubpages)
I’m a nut lover from way back. All nuts were good, but my favorite was Sunflower Seeds. And, not just any seed, it had to be David & Sons, in the shell. When I was 12, I could crack a sunflower shell, suck out the salt, spit out the shell and eat the seed in less time than you could say “Marisue, what’s that in your mouth?”
I would eat bags of them, read romance novels, listen to Dean Martin (while others were fainting over the Beatles…Ok, I was square, but I had big plans for me and Dino) and think I was in heaven.
So, how was I to know, in future years, that a nut and I would have a big disagreement? I had never met a nut I didn’t like.
Last year, I developed a new crave. Actually, I’ve been having many new cravings lately and I blame it entirely on the kids being gone and me having all this idle time. What’s a lady to do? Eat more nuts, I say.
While running errands, I stopped in a Gourmet Nut Shoppe. Well, it wasn’t chocolate, so that should have been my first clue. When I get to heaven, I’m designing a whole house made of chocolate, all for me. The nut shop was full of….nuts. I couldn’t decide.
I walked around, sampling one after another. I settled on a cute little green one. It was crunchy and slightly bitter, but I couldn’t stop eating them.
Happy with my purchase and new found craving, I drove back to the office. Within about 20 minutes, I told Lynn I felt like I had a seed stuck in my throat, so I was forced to quit eating the snappy little things. The feeling of the lump in my throat lasted through the night, causing my normal insomnia to go into overdrive. I walked the floor and finally settled on the couch in the living room as Lynn was moaning about me clearing my throat 400 hundred times.
Sheesh! Some people have no tolerance.
The next morning I was better, but still somewhat croaky. I put the nuts in a bag in the refrigerator and forgot about them. A couple of weeks later, I found the nuts – well, you have to understand my refrigerator to understand that remark, but I brought the nuts down to the office for more munching. I mean, a seed stuck in the throat can’t happen twice, can it? Naaaaa. And, it didn’t.
But, something worse did. Within 2 minutes of swallowing the nut, I had to clear my throat. Within 4 minutes I was hoarsely screaming for Lynn. My eyes were itching, my lips were swelling, my hands were bright red, and I was clawing at my skin, the air, and my throat. I could tell breathing was going to be impossible soon. I ran for the front door and the car, with Lynn close behind.
Down the street, about 5 blocks and 2 traffic lights was an emergency walk-in clinic. Lynn floored the gas pedal and away we went. I never itched so badly in my life. My voice was a high squeak and squeak I did.
I always knew I would not go out of this world quietly.
“I need Benadryl” I croaked. It came out “ah ned thenadil.”
Panicking, which, not meaning to brag, I found out I was very good at, I began to wave my hands in the air like a bird taking flight.
“Ok,” Lynn yelled. He ran one red light (it’s ok, he’s a retired cop, he knows about lights) and made a hard right turn into Walgreen’s. O, yeah, I had a lot of time for shopping. In a very undignified manner, he ran into the store shouting, “Where’s the Benadryl? My wife ate a nut!!”
People stared, he said later. He plucked the box off the shelf and shouted “I’ll pay you later…she can’t breathe.”
Well, if I couldn’t breathe, how was I going to swallow a pill? But, we had no time for thinking…I was busy trying to live. Pardon the drama.
He opened the box, popped out a pill and handed it to me. It was difficult picking it up from his hand and I happened to glance in the car mirror as I leaned over for him to drop the pill in my now 4 times it’s normal size mouth. My eyes looked as if they were bleeding and I did not recognize my face.
It looked like a red soccer ball. I began to whine and cry, clawing at my hands even though I knew I shouldn’t. The tears stung my eyes more, so I had to quit bawling.
I thought “Is this what it feels like to die?” “Stop it!” I told myself. “Breathe, again, swallow.” I couldn’t swallow nor could I breathe very easily. However, I want to tell you that my life did not pass before my eyes. I was focusing on swallowing, not politically correct, I know, but that’s what happened.
I didn’t even think of my children…nope, at that moment, I’m ashamed to say it was all about me, baby.
Lynn roared out of the parking lot and it took us 2 hours to get to the emergency clinic. Well, maybe 2 minutes. I staggered in and Lynn tried to tell them what happened. My face was finally worth a thousand words. I finally got the standing ovation most people only dream about. Secretly, of course.
The nurse jumped up and grabbed me, directing me to the back room. Another one accosted Lynn for vital statistics like where I was born and raised, did I get good grades in school and all the important stuff.
As we entered the back room my knees buckled and I slipped into a chair. The nurse was shouting for the doctor and I was beginning to think of needles.
“Fear of needles is good,” I told myself. It meant I was still very much alive. The doctor grabbed his stethoscope and listened to my heart, while he requested 2 shots be prepared; one of adrenalin, and one of cortisone. I couldn’t speak, but I kept trying until I mumbled “I don’t like needles.”
The nurse said, “Well, we want you to ease your breathing…so you really don’t have a choice, honey, drop your pants.”
So much for her bedside manner. Actually, she was trying to grin and I give her credit, I never felt the shots. Course I was rather pre-occupied: scratching, breathing, trying to suck my 3 pound lips back in to a less embarrassing position; things like that.
Lynn magically appeared and said “She ate nuts, I told her to leave them alone, but no, she ate nuts.”
“Was I going to get grounded?” I thought. Besides, he did not tell me to leave them alone, and if he had, I’d probably have eaten way more than the four I popped into my mouth right before I shot to the moon. You know, just to show him who’s boss. That’s important in a relationship, don’t you think?
My heart sped up to warp speed within a few minutes, so now I was itching, swelling, burning up, eyes watering and practically bleeding, breathing shallow and worrying about what I looked like. Other than that, it was a pretty good day.
The nurse politely avoided showing shock when she looked at my face and kept patting me on the arm and checking my rash. She glanced at the doctor who nonchalantly ordered another cocktail for me.
I lay back on the bed and moaned “shoot me.” They did and again, I didn’t even feel the prick of the needles. They must be improved and sharper than they were a few years ago.
I am a woman of few phobias as I’ve said previously and needles make the short list. (Right up there with spiders, snakes, creepy crawlies, frogs, ants, elevators, and liver and onions, just to name a few.) My breathing was shallow, but steady.
The nurse said the blood pressure was through the roof but coming back for landing. Lynn was looking at me and pacing. He tried to smile.
“Uh, O.” I thought again. “I’m’ going to get the lecture. Well, he just better not. How was I to know this little seed was going to bite? I’ve got good radar but I’m not psychic!” It wasn’t my fault and that’s my story.
I would have pouted but I still couldn’t move my lips. I tried to hide. Restless with all the adrenalin in me, I sat up and began to rub my legs, arms, and hands. The nurse pushed me back on the little bed. “Rest!” she commanded. Sure, give a person 2 shots of adrenalin and then say “don’t move.”
Phones rang. Other problems with other people, I supposed. Misery loves company.
The clock ticked. Clinics shouldn’t put clocks in those little cubicles, because the thought that it’s your last “tick” does cross your mind. Tick-tick-Tick.
The itching began to ease, but I still had to resist clawing myself to death by the second. After 3 hours of pure misery and mayhem, I came to the decision that I didn’t like pumpkin seeds. Nope, not one bite/bit.
May they all die and rot in hell. Go for plastic pumpkins, will ya?
The doctor came over to me, as I got ready to leave, and said “Now that you’re better, let me caution you, do not ever eat or handle another pumpkin seed. When you have a reaction like you did, the next one will be worse. It just might kill you.”
“Oh.” I looked at him. He was serious. In parting, he said, “You are one lucky lady.”
Vegas, anyone?
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P.S. I did get the lecture; we did pay for the benadryl; I did itch for 2 weeks.
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