THE DAY MY NERVES JAMMED IN NEUTRAL

It was another day in the my life as I walked the few blocks from my offices on Mainland Street in Vancouver to the bus stop on Howe to take the express run to Tsawwassen. The usual transit riders were waiting for their respective runs and chit-chatted with those that knew each other while the rest paced around aimlessly, alone with their thoughts of the day’s events or what they were about to do when they got home. The Express picked up along Howe and this was the last stop before its destination to TSWWASSEN and was most always at full capacity. One of BC Transit’s greatest ideas that eliminated driving through rush hour traffic and provided an opportunity to relax in this busy life where these Urbanites made their living.

I dropped my token and the Bus-Driver launched his “missile” into the traffic as I grabbed any available post strap on my way down to the rear of the bus where an empty seat awaited me.

We were over almost over the Granville Street Bridge when that light-headed sensation started to come unto me. It is like someone was squeezing the top of my head down into my torso. Then I became anxious and I looked around, anticipating that those around me could see what was happening to me but everyone continued oblivious to my sudden apparent attack of some sort that I could not seem to control as it totally overcame me.

There was this overwhelming need to escape. “Escape from what?”, was my practical self asking me. Yet, try as I could, to dissuade this feeling, I became convinced that I had to get off this bus as everything seemed to be closing in on me and I felt threatened by the place I occupied at this time and I needed to leave it immediately.

I activated the bell but the Driver ignored me. I realized that he had no idea what I was going through and so I got up and bounced my way to the front of bus. My legs felt “rubbery” and I actually felt that I would fall down but somehow I groped my way forward to ask the Driver to let me off.

“I have to get off this bus”, I mumbled as even my voice seemed strange to me, which was further cause for alarm.

“This is an Express Bus, that has only one stop and that is Tswwassen” he curtly replied. “Sit down”, he commanded.

“I have to get off this bus right now,” I pleaded. “I am not well and I cannot explain any further, except, I need to get off this thing!”

By this time we were approaching 60th Avenue and finally the bus ground to a halt with some very vile language hurtled at me and I literally fell off the steps and unto the sidewalk at 80th Avenue.

I got up slowly as helplessness became my next fear because try as I would, my legs would not obey my mind’s instruction to walk. “What is happening?” I asked the shrubbery beside me, wondering what was really taking place as I never had such a condition befall me before.

“I need to get to a phone and call home,” was my next plan, “but how and where do I find a phone?” I asked no one in particular. “Besides, how will I walk to a phone if I could even see one?”

“All right”, I encouraged my body, “walking is taking one step at a time” but my legs would not move and at best felt that they each weighed a ton. “My God, I think this must be what is referred to as a “Nervous Breakdown”.

 “Thanks for the self diagnosis, but what is the remedy?” I pleaded with myself.

“Start walking, hobbling or whatever you can do even if you need to crawl, as a sidewalk on Granville is not where you want to end your life here on Earth”, I encouraged my body.

And so, this wreck of a man began a staggering, almost pitiful trek in search of a phone. This effort resulted in reaching the approach to the Arthur Laing Bridge when I realized that there were likely no phones for a long distance on the other side of that Bridge assuming that I could navigate across.

“Let’s try Oak Street and see what can be found”, I continued with this journey. I started to recall my many years that I walked the 3 ½ miles to school and back only to return to town after doing my chores for some social activity. “So what is the matter now”, I asked the inconsiderate traffic whizzing by me on their missions to and fro.

I made it to the North side of the Oak Street Bridge and for the first time realized how lengthy the blessed thing was. “How will I ever make it across?” I was almost wailing now in my anguish to somehow end this entire experience.

“Let’s give it a College try”, I coaxed my body to action that appeared to be not at all responding in a fashion that I was used to and was dangerously on the verge of giving up.

“One foot ahead of the other and pull the other foot forward. Just keep this up and we will get there,” but the body was continuing to disobey. At the crest of the bridge, I stopped and looked at the Fraser River. The thought came by “let’s just lean over the handrail and let this all end”, but the other self continued with its debate “is this how it all will end?”

“Let’s see if we can make the other side and take it from there” was the sensible decision and on this wreck continued to the Richmond side. No telephone could be seen anywhere in my periphery. The Delta River Inn was all I could surmise may provide the pay phone that I needed. “There is eight (8) lanes of traffic to cross to get there and we have the 6 o’clock traffic to contend with and no crosswalk” I discussed the situation with myself.

“Myself” answered in the desperate plea that could only be excused for a “bad decision is better than no decision at all” that is taught in management and leadership classes. So the decision was to launch myself into the traffic and let Providence deal with the outcome. I am sure that the Drivers of that day must have thought that “here’s one of them drunk guys again, why don’t the Police deal with them so they do not endanger us sane people?”

Traffic veered every which way and all I can remember is reaching the island between the North and South lanes. “Yes, I made it this far but I only have four (4) lanes of Northbound traffic to go” as I pivoted off the island on my way to the East side of the Highway.

I am still not sure how this reckless maneuver was able to propel me to my destination but in the end I finally made it to the hotel. I am sure that Marilyn must have wondered “what is he doing at the hotel and why does he want me to pick him up?”

After reaching home, I decided to continue walking around the neighborhood and that ultimately released the nerve seizure or anxiety attack that I had experienced. The entire relaxation process took some time but ultimately the condition went away as suddenly as it came on.

The epilogue of this story is that I realized that in 1986, that I had imposed on my body too much and although I never experienced such a severe attack again, I have had many anxiety situations to which I found no understanding from the medical fraternity at that time. Some self-diagnosis and research seemed to indicate stress symptoms, with perhaps an Agoraphobic tendency in that I would want to get out of a public place and literally “hide”.

Along with the medication for Hypertension that continued with a higher dosage of various pills to no avail, I came to the conclusion with my Heart Specialist at Vancouver General, that removing myself from the current level of responsibility and activity as President of a very active General Contracting firm was my best treatment in the initial sense.

I resigned my position and returned to the Kootenays in a capacity as a Building Consultant in my own one person firm. I never again had any indication of that type of an attack.

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