Nuts, Life and death

 The small almond sits in the palm of my hand. An image of imediate death awates as I stare at it in disbileafe. 43 years of Hospital visits anrgcñ d anaflactic shock. The evidence of this little seads power over me. As the voice in my head speaking clearly " Eat the whole thing, youll be fine" my body waiting for the inebital truth of the moment. 

Another had given me there leftovers a bag, a mixture of peanuts, corn nuts, banana chips and little did I know Almonds. The little brown nuts few and hidden amist the others. The dust alone enought to send me into anafilactic shock. A sole bottel of bynidrial Ive kept for 19 months hidden from others around me, my only safty net, locked away frome socioty and the world. The little food given to me by others a gift, a treasure, stale crackers they no longer want. Food delivered once a week to our prision cell from family and friends, I have none here in Colombia,  a country i loath.

I sit there my back against the concrete wall, in my hand the small nut I had just spit out on realization of what had just happened as I tossed a handful of the mixture into my mouth moments before. The texture unknown to my mind as Ive never had the ability to taste one before. The reaction instantanious, my brain sending sensations of regret to every aspect of my being. My body rejecting the smallest crumb of any and all tree nuts. Peanuts an exception as they are actualy a bean, legume. My toung shooting sensations of panick to my lips and throught as the begin to swell. The tingling sensation raideating as my stomach turns the smallest of substance into an all out revolt. My mind prioritizing the steps needed for survivle. If i can just expell the substance and introduce a solution quick enough. Binadryle,  medical assistance or an injection of epinefrin I can survive. An experiance Ive live through hundreds of times. The pain and recouporation from the smallest granual lasting 24 to 48 hours as my body atempts to recover from the massive swelling it cause. My throught barely able to allow a drop of water past. My uvula, the hangy ball thing at the back of your mouth swelling to the size of a golf ball. Nasle and airway restricting and closing. My chest seazing as shooting pains extend throughout my stomach, a rock as convulsions and tremors atach the remnants of what may be left after vomiting everything it once held. Dry heaving until a solution is introduced. Binadryle my imediate solution. A savoir time and time again. Hulting the growth of my expanding orgins. A slowing the atach to a managable pace as pill after pill is chewed and swallowed rapidly. A bottel of liquid consumed over an hour span as I mpnitor my vitals, heart slowing as the two battel it out. Having passed out on multipul ocations, assuming the worst, death, only to wake an hour latter the realization of survivle again. This little nut holding the power of life or death. Having surcum to its reaction 20 years earlier, life suport 5 days. Along thw Comino de Santiago a few years back. The lack of remidy available in the small village I was passing threw. Cocco puff cerial made with nutella. Sent me running threw the streets of the sleepy town only to be directed by a woman on a balcony to a pilgrams clinic a few streets over as I held my throught mumbling " Muerte! Necesito médica!" My voice barly heard as my throught was mostly closed. The small clinic i bardged into, the only staff on hand a doctor and two nurses consolting another patient as I begin to fade in and out. "Muerte" i speak as my swolen lips and toung dribble suliva out its side. The Dr. imedately dismising his patient in the single bed exame room as I fall onto the bed. The nurse quickly pulling down the back of my pants exposing my buttox as the Dr. Fills a surenge, contents unknown. Then injects the vile into my backside. Staying contious throughout as the medicine initiates its magical effects. My heart racing beyond its limits as I lay there. Thats my reality with this small obsticle, lifes trials, ad I was born with this nusence, nothing more. Its power to take my life excepted. A life thats a gift, not a rite. 

So as I hold the small, brown pill of death, the voice in my head speaks to me. Take a bite, dont fear it anymore, eat the whole thing. A nut I had just spit from my mouth moments earlier in expectation of the worst. The normal sensations failing to apear. I sat there locked away in this cell knowing this could be the end if I choose. A choice to listen to the voice in complete contradictory to the realities I know. 

This life is not worth living unless you take risk. Except our febal exsitance and echnoledge a creator bigger than ourselfs. A creator that does not need to explain its self. A God in my mind. One that I do not understand. One that does not rely on my exceptance. Its creation of myself unimportant to its grand scale as God choses our rloes, our path, good, bad or ugly.  An author that writes a story as it chooses. My mind aware of the future the small brown object in my hand holds as I choose to listen. I tosse the whole thing in my mouth, chewing it wholy. For the first time in my life I taste the Almond. A slightly sweet, buttery taste. A plesent enjoyable gift. Death is always possible, its life thats worth the adventure.