I couldn't breathe. I - I went into - literally, my kidneys stopped functioning. They stopped, you know, processing the fluid that was starting to build up in my body.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I was ill. I was told I was stressed, so I had to get everything checked out. I didn't think I was, but someone told me I was. As a result, I went to get a blood test. I'd never had one before, so I held my breath when I was getting it done. That caused me to go into a fit.
When I was 25, I was in a show called 'Bajour,' and I was going to leave the show because I couldn't breathe. I couldn't sing, and I couldn't do the basic dance steps I had to do. Fortunately, two actors in the production - who were also yoga instructors - taught me some breathing exercises, and my asthma was cured that day.
Sometimes I would make myself very still and try to imagine myself dead. I tried to invoke the feeling of the very last breath I would take.
I thought I was Superman until I experienced that life-changing anaphylactic shock. I was eating lunch and gobbled down a couple of bowls of gumbo. Then, 15 minutes later, I'm in my dorm room resting up. My eyes started itching and my throat was swelling up. I could barely breathe.
As a kid I used to hold my breath longer than anybody else, and then I heard stories about people accidently underwater for 45 minutes - how do you recover from that? It's not a miracle. Something allows us to survive.
And when I breathed, my breath was lightning.
In December 1988, my mother died of lung cancer. I died too. I couldn't function.
The difference with me is that I did inhale.
Hindered by asthma since I was six weeks old, I had begun experimenting with my diet and discovered a disquieting correlation. When I stopped eating the normal American diet of sugar, fats, alcohol, chemicals, and additives, I felt better. I could breathe freely. When I tried to sneak in a hamburger and a Coke, my body rebelled.
I have inhaled, exhaled everything.