Instant Fear

A lot can happen in five minutes. This afternoon, we were from enjoying relaxed conversation, a simple game, and snacks with our family, having just been reunited an hour prior. Five minutes later, Ethan was being rushed to hospital, shivering and unable to breathe.

Anaphylaxis is a real, lethal threat. Fortunately, my family knows this better than most, and this isn’t our first rodeo. Still, the instant fear it instills within you—spiking your stress response from zero to a hundred—is hard to match. You go from enjoying a lovely meal, to a few seemingly innocuous symptoms, to near-death.

Suddenly, everything else becomes insignificant. You drop whatever you’re doing, because, of course, none of it matters all that much.

We’re incredibly fortunate. Ethan felt something was wrong, and told us about it. My parents are perhaps the home duo best equipped to act with composure and precision in that situation. We’re in a major city, with a nearby hospital, and prompt ambulance services.

Thankfully, besides an overnight hospital stay and a difficult next 24hrs for Ethan, it only gives us a sharp reminder of our impermanence, an almighty scare, and a moment that brings us closer together as a family. I can’t imagine the fear he must’ve felt himself, as his throat constricted, and his eyes grew wide. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone.