What I Learned From Two Near-Death Experiences
What I Learned From Two Near-Death Experiences
Three Point Essay | Realizations On Realizations
Are you sick of the dramatic stories people spew about their “near-death” experiences? And how they realized they were a Disney character afterwards? Me too.
My experiences where I felt the grim reaper coming (but juked him out because I’m an athlete), are unique and include real heroism, as opposed to the sob stories you hear about someone who “got stabbed in their own home by a hired Saudi assassin but lived” or something basic like that.
I. The time I ate Chinese food with cashews in it
I had my College orientation in the summer of 2019. As I walked around the dining hall giddy and bright eyed, I saw a friendly guy named Tim with some tasty looking chicken and rice.
“Yo, that looks gas where did you get that?” I said.
“Over there man” he said with a smile.
I got some and then sat down at a big round table with my new friends. After a couple bites I suddenly felt like I was drowning from dryness. Confused, I took a sip of some water but it kept getting worse. There was a sharp knot in my stomach and I started sauna sweating.
“No way I didn’t check, this can’t be happening, no, I’m not this stupid, not now…” I thought.
I was in denial until the itching inside my skin became intolerable. I felt like I was on fire. Charlie, my big strong and funny hometown friend, said something but his words weren’t processed in my light feeling head. My vision started getting blurry and I couldn’t swallow.
I accepted that I was indeed having a severe allergic reaction. Without saying a word I got up and darted towards the bathroom. (Somehow no one at the table noticed I was tweaking). As I panic-walked through crowds of students, a hilarious one named Kai who I’d just met saw me all red-skinned and hyperventilating.
“Damn bro, you good?” he asked.
“Nah, I’m f*****” I said.
He followed me to the bathroom and waited outside the stall, talking to me as I figured out how to jab myself with an epi-pen. I remain forever bonded (and thankful) to this dude, for being there for me in this dumb yet serious moment.
II. The 2nd Time I ate Chinese food with cashews in it
During a fall afternoon in 2020, I was at the gym with my Sylvester Stallone look-alike friend, Gucci, who was moving weight like an absolute dog.
“Aye stallion what time is it?” I asked him.
I realized it was half-past late for a poker match.
I hate being late to anything, and a fellow poker guru named Jack was already waiting outside our apartment when we got back. I rushed inside, showered quick, and threw an Easy Cuisine in the microwave to eat on the go.
I was housing the chicken and rice in the car, debating how to play ace-king off-suit while under the gun, when, again, I felt like I was drowning from dryness.
“Turn the car around bro.”
“What? Why?” he asked.
“Just turn around bro.”
He turned around.
I spent the next 8 hours at 2 different hospitals. One epi-pen wasn’t enough (I ate so much, that post workout hunger). When I got the second shot of adrenaline my heart was beating so fast I thought I was going to explode. That was better than the itching and the burning, though.
Both times I had this anaphylactic shock was from Chinese food while I was at school. I can’t help but wonder, was I set up by Chinese communist spies? Spies who could easily hide and thrive in the social “science”1 department of a radically left-leaning university like Umass Amherst? Ones who would want to whack me because I was often the only student in my Communications classes who knew what Marxism was and would push back on this ideology that almost all my professors endorsed?
Forget that COVID-19 actually might’ve leaked from a lab in China. Or that a CCP ruled platform is intentionally poisoning young American minds with their anti-Western “weapon of mass distraction.” Chinese food almost killing me (2x!) is the foreign policy situation that the U.S. should be most concerned about.
It also begs the question, why is the food so suspiciously delicious even when you’re allergic to its contents?2
III. Realizations
Confucius believed that you have two lives, but that the second doesn’t begin until you realize you only have one.
People run with this by saying “Yup! Dream big because you only have one life!” in some half-ass inspirational way.
Here’s the practical way to say it: “In not long, you’re going to disappear, so it only makes sense be ambitious and strive to become the best version of yourself possible, because not only will you be gone pretty soon, but everyone you’ve ever known too, including anyone who ever laughed at you, or discouraged you, or didn’t like you, and it’s all a big nothing-burger at that point, and literally everything you did or said in this life was like writing on water, and then, well, there’s the heat death of the universe and all that jazz, so, yeah, you might as well aim high and act on it because why the hell wouldn’t you? Everything is temporary.”
You don’t have to be a Disney character to chase your dreams. You don’t even have to get poisoned by communists with food your body can’t process. You just have to stare death in the face. Memento mori.3
Social science at Umass Amherst was a fancy word for “fake intellectuals who use lots of jargon to sound smart but are really idiot cowards”
I’ve had many good experiences with Chinese people, especially at university, and am embarrassed how little I know about their fascinating language and rich culture.
Latin expression that means “remember you must die”