I Almost Died from a Bottle of Divergence in The Time of Rona

I Almost Died from a Bottle of Divergence. Rona got me tripping. Yeah, I said it.

I was dragging my feet, and didn’t know why. I didn’t feel like engaging in conversation, or take on any tasks. I couldn’t bring myself to shift gears either. It was Monday morning, and I was just like, meh… if meh was on steroids.

I texted my Mastermind Connect brothers, JD Weatherspoon and Mike McConnell to tell them that I wasn’t feeling 💯 , and should not expect much from me for the day - at least not creatively, or timely and thoughtful responses.

As the day went on, I told my wife that I was feeling a bit depressed, and didn’t know why.

We got to talking, and she reminded me that depression was usually caused by letting our thoughts dwell in the past, while anxiety was about fear of the future. She asked me what it was that I was thinking about, something about the past or something about the future; I said neither. We then spoke about how we are living in a time where feeling either way was okay. There is no real “normal” right now.

How we feel will shift from one day to the next, from one moment to another. Some days, you may feel like you’re being super productive and focused, while the next day, you may dread getting on a Zoom call, even if your role is to just listen in.

Like most people here in New York City - and the rest of the world, we’ve been sheltering in place for the last couple of months, hoping that it helps in containing the spread of the COVID-19 virus. We are doing our collective best to make it through 2020 in one piece.

New York City, April 2020 - Getty

And, what’s normal anyway?

In psychology and psychiatry, it really means average or typical, but we too easily think of it as a synonym for how everyone is supposed to think and feel. As for me, this particular day was certainly not typical, even by the average of our most recent two months standards. We determined that I wasn’t really feeling depressed, but rather tired, and low energy.

Weird, I said to myself. I was in such a high just the day before. I had exercised doing something I love; riding my bike for 28 miles in Brooklyn, around Coney Island and New York Harbor, passing under the Verrazano Bridge, looking from afar at Staten Island, the NYC borough that sometimes seems like it belongs in NJ. I did this with my friend Jamian Polk, who had purchased his brand new Specialized road bike the day before, and wanted to put it to the test while keeping our mandatory six feet of social distancing, of course. What are we, savages?

By the time we parted ways, it was 4:30 in the afternoon, and I had felt accomplished, having played my part in Jamian’s induction to road cycling. 

Once I got home, I had a nice meal, and even capped my day off with a cigar in the backyard. Once my Dominican dry leaf was all gone, and the last bit of smoke put in the air, I took a long bath to help my muscles recuperate from the fatigue and help with the soreness that was to come. I was in the tub for about 2 hours. I watched a movie. I was relaxed. It felt good. But that was all on a #SundayFunday.

What was happening to me on this particular Monday morning though?

Did the bike ride take such toll on my body?

Am I getting old? Damn, I’m getting old. Fuuuuuck.

I spent the day in my backyard, thinking and researching online how to grow fruits and vegetables this season, letting the sun hit my face and the wind rock the hammock I was lying in, once again. Leo, my 7 year old Pitbull terrier, would come to pay me a visit from time to time, reminding me that I was loved too.

Okay, maybe he just really wanted me to take him out for a walk. Let’s get back to the story and stay focused here.

Once the Sun sat on the West, my wife invited me to join her in the bathtub for some quality time. Unlike the night before, where I had prepared my own bath, this time she had full control of it. This meant the water was set to an “inferno hot” 1000 degrees Fahrenheit. Like in the past though, when this invite is offered, I say a prayer, hoping that my skin would not melt, and then get in it with her.

After some 20 minutes of listening to The Untethered Soul - The Journey Beyond Yourself, an audiobook by Michael A. Singer  on consciousness, awareness, and being (highly recommended), everything began to feel reaaaally trippy for me. My wife noticed my face was looking a bit “droopy,” and got out of the tub to get some cold drinking water from the fridge. 

I followed her footsteps and got up right after she did, but as soon as I did, I felt my blood pressure began to drop. My heart rate was slowing down. I was hot, and felt lightheaded.

I sat on the edge of the tub, and after like two seconds, felt my right butt cheek was getting toasty, really fast. As I turned to look behind me, I saw (or rather felt) that it was touching one of the hot mason jar candles we usually place around the bathtub, and jumped up as a reflex, sliding my ass back down the side of the tub and into the bath water from hell, which surprisingly, now felt like heaven. My wife was like what happened? What are you doing? All I could do was point at the damn candle.

What a freaking Monday this was. I could not wait for it to end.

Speaking of the Devil, it was at this time that my stupid ass decided to make a second attempt to get out of the tub. I was already feeling embarrassed that my wife saw me accidentally burn my ass on a candle mason jar. I had decided to get out at once. I was a man on a mission.

Once both feet where on the mat, I began to feel dizzy again. I sat on the toilet before something major happened. The last thing I wanted was to fall back into the tub, unconscious. Sitting there, I rested my elbows on my thighs, and my chin on a towel, which I held with my hands around my ears. I just didn’t want to fall head on, if I fainted.

My wife, who at that moment was walking towards the bathroom with a glass of cold water in hand, noticed I was sitting there, slowly bending my body towards my left. She is a native New Yorker, and has seen crack and heroin users similarly lean in all kinds of acrobatic ways, while standing or sitting in a subway car. I can only imagine what went through her head, even if for a second. But then, she realized I wasn’t stopping, and my head was going straight for the marble tile that surrounds the bathtub. More specifically, the corner edge part. The one that could do the most damage.

She caught me right on time though, jerking my body upright, just as I had gone full limp bizkit, and the part of my head where the left temple meets the forehead lightly hit the base’s edge.

I woke up to my wife standing over me, phone in hand, still playing that trippy audiobook; The Untethered Soul - The Journey Beyond Yourself, and calling out my name. I thought I was still sitting on the toilet, and kept asking her “What’s wrong? Why are you yelling at me?” She said you’re on the floor! You’ve fainted!!

I said, what? No way! And as I started to lift my head up, and realized I wasn’t gonna make it fully up that fast, I humbly asked for a pillow, laid back down, and stayed in a dazed and confused state for a couple of more minutes.

By this time, it seems like my wife realized the damn audiobook was still playing and finally stopped it. She then paused to make a decision on whether to call an ambulance or not (or her mother in Atlanta, GA). I kept asking her to please put the phone down. I realized what had happened.

The thought of riding in an ambulance to a Brooklyn hospital in the time of Rona was all the motivation my brain needed to open up the floodgates and send my blood to flow right back into my head, get up, and make it to the bed. I pulled it off, thanking God that it was only 10 feet away.

See, what had happened was… I wasn’t thinking straight. I had setup my mind into chill cruise control for the weekend, and forgot to turn it off on Monday. I was fully dehydrated, and Bathtub Inferno had done me in.

I was so excited about enjoying the nice 76 degrees weather days, that I lost myself in the moment and forgot that #water is #life. 

It was a split second decision that saved my life. My wife has earned the Life Saver badge earlier than I wished to give her credit for (I was hoping to get to reach my 70’s for that one). Now I have a small bump on the side of my forehead to remind me of the experience, and a pinched nerve on my upper back, for letting my body drop like a disconnected host on the HBO sci-fi drama series Westworld.

Like the main focus of Westworld’s Season 3, this was a divergence; the butterfly effect of the things that started unfolding when season one began. This can be avoided though. I must keep my mind on my water and my water on my mind. I don’t need a map nor an app. I just need to remember this.

Actor Jeffrey Wright, playing Bernard in Westworld.

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