September 23, 2024 • 41 mins
On this episode of Revelizations I continue making excuses until I find new and exciting ways to make even more excuses to remain in place. Thanks for listening!
Enjoying Revelizations and don't know what to do next? Let me offer a suggestion: Grab a device capable of playing a podcast along with some earbuds, turn on an episode of Revelizations, place the earbuds in the ears of your loved ones, and watch with joy as they thank you endlessly for introducing them to the Revelizations podcast. While you're at it feel free to leave a review on whatever platform you're listening to this podcast and follow/subscribe so you never miss an episode.
Not enjoying Revelizations and don't know what you do next? Let me offer a suggestion: Grab your loudest portable speaker capable of pairing with a device that can play a podcast, go to a densely populated area with great acoustics, turn on an episode of Revelizations, crank up the volume, and laugh manically as the unsuspecting population looks around in confusion and bliss to the situation they are in. While you're at it feel free to leave a review on whatever platform you're forcing everyone to listen to the Revelizations podcast and follow/subscribe so you don't miss these types of opportunities in the future.
Thanks to today's sponsor: Binoculars
Be sure to use code Revelizations at any and all checkouts. Probably nothing will happen, but it is worth a shot.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
This episode of Revelizations is brought to you by Binoculars.
(00:12):
Oh no, what are they doing this time?
Your weird neighbors are up to no good again.
Or are they?
You can sort of see them, but they're a little too far to see in detail what they're up to.
Make that a problem of your past with binoculars.
Binoculars give you the convenience of eagle-eye vision without any of that eagle flying around
(00:35):
inconvenience.
Now deciding on whether you're bringing over brownies to that barbecue across the street
or putting your house up for sale after witnessing one too many rituals has never been made easier.
Binoculars.
When you want to be nosy without anyone noticing.
Available exclusively at your local peeping store.
(00:56):
Hi, I'm Brian James and welcome to Revelizations.
(01:21):
Previously on Revelizations, Brian and his wife have moved to California after some working
as a delivery driver, he comes to the Revelization that it sure would be swell to host his own
podcast.
He comes up with an idea for his podcast, buys the equipment, and sets out on trying
to get his first episode recorded.
After some minor hiccups, he fortifies his resolve.
(01:42):
He will not be deterred.
Oh, what's that?
It's actually easier to just walk away from the podcast than to brainstorm on ways to
make it work?
Yeah, then let's definitely do that then.
On this episode, I went back and forth whether or not to include this part.
It is uncomfortable to talk about and may even be a little uncomfortable to listen to.
I could take it out and I think the feel and overall sentiment of what I'm trying to accomplish
(02:06):
in these first few episodes would still be achieved.
However, in this sample for my life, I learned a valuable lesson.
Is one lesson worth a whole podcast?
Well, I devoted two episodes where it appears that I've learned zero lessons.
A podcast where there is a tangible take away seems like a nice breath of fresh air,
and isn't that the point of including anything about my podcast journey in my podcast?
(02:29):
The hope that through my mess-ups I can help at least one person avoid the same mistakes.
As the person making the podcast I can confidently assure you that is the point.
Enough dancing around the episode. Let's dance with it.
This analogy may hit some of you wrong, or perhaps it will bring up a bad memory or twos,
(02:50):
but nonetheless, it's an unavoidable human experience.
Dust off that old file in your brain titled Shred Immediately and let's give it a peek.
Recall a time in your life when you had to go to the bathroom really, really bad.
Not pee, rather a twosie situation.
Undoubtedly, you just broke out into a cold sweat.
You lived through it once.
(03:10):
Why do you have to relive it again?
It's too late.
You're in it now.
Flashback filter, engaged.
You're in your formative years.
You're a young pop in your college days and summer break has just started.
You learned what you needed to learn to pass all your classes, but that intro to philosophy
class has left a lasting impact.
It really got your wheels turning in more ways than one.
(03:33):
You're going on a road trip, not only to explore the country, but yourself.
The next time someone asks you to, Tell me about yourself? You are going to have a profound
answer.
The morning of your trip, the alarm clock goes off and you jump out of bed to get a
jump on the day.
You'd be leaving before your normal potty time routine, but you made all the necessary
preparations.
(03:54):
The rental car got packed the night before and you had a heavy fiber dinner while avoiding
any cheeses.
After you turn on and off your stove five times, flip all the light switches three times
while avoiding any cracks, you know, normal human behaviors, you're just about ready
to leave on your trip of national, and more importantly, self-discovery.
Last thing you need to do is go to the bathroom.
(04:16):
You bear down, but that bear is still in hibernation.
You wait an extra 15 minutes, hop up and down a bit in hopes to aid in compacting everything
and encourage that final step in the digestive process.
It worked in that documentary you watched, or was it a cartoon?
Nevertheless, traffic waits for no man or bowel movement.
(04:38):
It's time to leave, and although you're leaving with more baggage than you wanted, you head
out the door.
You're now four hours into your road trip, and only an hour till you're at your first
destination.
What was supposed to take close to six hours is only going to take you five.
You're making really good time when nature calls.
Your dinner of a Metamucil smoothie followed by a coffee breakfast has finished running
(04:59):
its course through your digestive track.
It's time for the beverages final leg of their trip.
Well, you delayed leaving for your trip by a little bit, so now it's their turn to have
their own departure delayed.
You really can't stress it enough.
You're making too good of time and don't want to make any unnecessary stops, except
this wasn't a check-in call.
This was a courtesy call.
(05:20):
That train was leaving on time, with or without your permission.
Other than that minor blip, your philosophy-inspired trip went off without a hitch.
It was time to bring back your rental car.
You pull up to the return kiosk and are greeted by a customer service agent.
You roll down your window, and he asks, tell me about...
Myself?
You quickly interrupt.
Confidently, you declare, I'm someone who won't let obstacles stop me from where I
(05:43):
want to go.
After saying this, you raise your eyebrows, allowing the sunglasses to carelessly fall
to the edge of your nose, accompanied by a sly side-smirk.
The customer service agent's eyes light up, and he begins to slow clap.
This gets the attention of his coworkers.
They walk over, clapping as well.
The intensity of the applause builds up to what eventually erupts into loud cheers as they hoist you onto
(06:07):
their shoulders, parading you around the business.
They shout, he did it, that son of a bitch!
He did it!
He knows who he is!
They lift you from their shoulders, throwing you into the air as you freeze frame midair.
What?
No.
The customer service agent opens the door, snapping you out of your daydream.
Tell me about your experience with the car.
(06:28):
Any problems or accidents I need to be aware of?
You reply, I don't know.
You tell me.
As you get out of the car to get your belongings from the trunk, the agent lets out a gasp
as he beholds the violence of the aftermath of the Metamucil shake on the car seat you
just got up from.
He runs off, doing his best to hold back a quick succession of gags.
(06:49):
Sure, you didn't get your deposit back on your rental car, but lesson learned.
You know who you are, and maybe next road trip you'll sit on a towel.
Or there was the other bathroom emergency when you were out with your friends, having
a good time, laughing the night away until it got serious.
The Mexican food hit you sooner than you thought it would.
(07:09):
Mexican cuisine is delicious, but it's not one to linger.
It has places to go, and it needs to go pronto.
You grasp your belly, look at your friend, and let him know you're calling in your favor.
The one where you and him stayed up all night, and by process of elimination, you finally
found which hotel Taylor Swift was staying in.
It wasn't stalking, but you don't want to get into that now.
(07:31):
Not without your lawyer present.
As you both swiftly make your way to Taylor's hotel, you and your friend devise the perfect
subtle plan to get her attention.
You arrive at the hotel lobby, just as she is leaving with her entourage of friends and
bodyguards.
She is about to walk by you, and so you put into action Operation Fearless.
Like a flying squirrel, you hurl yourself at Taylor Swift's bodyguards, full starfish
(07:54):
for maximum bodyguard contact, to buy your friend a moment so he could lock eyes with
Tay-Tay, wink, and say,
Why can't you see?
You belong with me.
*Sings* You belong with me.
Before he too was tackled by a burly, yet gentle bodyguard.
You held up your end of the deal then, and now it was time for your friend to hold up
his.
(08:14):
The age-old rite of the favor redemption has been invoked.
With the Mexican food throwing a fiesta in your gut, you tell your friend to make sure
the bathroom is free.
He doesn't ask questions.
He doesn't even take a moment to remind you that he told you that it was a bad idea to
wear those pristine white jean shorts.
He knows, when he looks at you, he's looking at his future as he gazes upon the quiet desperation
(08:36):
in your eyes, because he too indulged in the all-you-can-eat Mexican buffet.
He wastes no time.
Like a hired goon, he gets to work making sure the bathroom stall is empty.
You receive a text moments later that, the coast is clear, eagles free to come in for
the landing.
Your friend stands outside the entrance to the bathroom, bouncing people as they try
to come in.
(08:57):
They complain, but he stoically points out a list he is holding.
If your name's not on the list, you're not getting in.
It's just some toilet paper he grabbed as he was doing his initial reconnaissance.
But that's privy information, and they aren't privy.
You approach the bathroom with an air about you, like you're the head of a major crime
syndicate.
You inconspicuously walk past your friend, giving a mutual nod as you do.
(09:19):
You're now safely behind the door.
You lock it and beeline straight to the toilet.
It's an emergency, but even in an emergency, certain protocols must be maintained.
There is no way your butt is coming into contact with a public toilet.
Normally you'd hover, except you had a heavy leg workout that day and you don't trust
your legs to not buckle as you squat over the toilet.
(09:40):
You're not falling in dirty toilet water.
You learned your lesson.
You won't make that mistake for a third time.
Once in the stall, you begin the commencement of the bathroom ceremony, giving proper respect
to the toilet.
You adorn the toilet seat with the most decadent single-ply toilet paper in all the bathroom.
Triple applied, of course, for extra buffer.
You do your ancestral potty dance in front of the toilet as you convulse and shimmy your
(10:02):
lower garments off in hopes to appease the toilet deity so that it may bless you with
no splashback as you let loose the rage of the storm ravaging your gut.
You sit, let out a heavy sigh, among other things, and crisis averted.
You know you're never going to live it down from your friend, but the white jeans stay
white and suddenly you have more room for Mexican food.
(10:24):
If you're by yourself or among friends, as bleak and embarrassing as those moments can
be, they are recoverable.
That's not always how the story goes.
Sometimes, fate decides you're carrying yourself with a little too much pride.
You need to be humbled.
Perhaps you're getting into too many arguments with internet strangers on whether or not
a hot dog is a sandwich, or worse yet, you make a slight faux pas while driving.
(10:47):
You're navigating a street with heavy road construction.
The lane you're currently occupying is ending and you need to merge.
You could do so now, but then you would be in a long line of traffic.
Instead, you decide that you'll keep going straight until you absolutely have to get
over.
Someone will let you in.
You normally don't drive in such an inconsiderate manner.
This had to be the exception.
(11:09):
You're meeting up with someone you fancy and are almost late for your date.
That would be unacceptable.
After all, you know who you are.
You're a person who is going to get where they are going, regardless of the obstacles,
except you've made a mistake.
You did save yourself an extra 30 seconds of drive time.
However, in doing so, not only did you catch the attention of the person you cut off and
(11:30):
that one specific finger they keep wanting to show you, but you caught the attention
of fate.
She decided that this karmic injustice needs to be rectified.
You arrive to the restaurant before your date does.
You take your seat and just as you do, she walks in.
You wave with one hand, and the other you rub your stomach to settle it a bit.
It's just some nerves, you tell yourself.
(11:51):
This will be your third date.
You two are well on your journey of exploring a love connection.
You have some foundation, but the relationship is still fragile, like a little canary.
It needs plenty of nurturing, and more importantly, fresh air.
You really think she can be the one, but if she catches wind of your wind, then your whirlwind
romance is going to get blown away.
(12:12):
So you keep it to yourself.
There's a rock in your gut, but love in your heart.
Not always does a situation go from chill to dire quickly.
Most of the time, your body does you the courtesy to let you know that it would be in your own
best interest to go to the bathroom reasonably soon.
It often starts as a gentle nudge, a slight signal sent to your brain that says, hey bro,
you need to go to the bathroom soon-ish.
(12:34):
No rush, everything's under control, just letting you know you have a shipment that
needs to be sent out.
Please wrap up what you're doing in a timely manner and find a bathroom.
You say thanks for the notification, hit snooze, order a bubbly beverage from the waiter to
help settle your stomach, and get back to your date.
Now, no one likes to be ignored, not even your own gut.
(12:54):
Second time around, instead of a polite greeting, it's a cramp or a gurgling sound from somewhere
deep in your body.
Where did that come from, you think to yourself?
Oh well, back to what I was doing.
The gases are starting to build up, that uncomfortable feeling of pressure intensifying in your lower
digestive tract, but lo.
Your body does whatever it does, where it makes that groggle, groggle, groggle sound,
(13:16):
and the pressure is relieved.
At least for the time being, a false sense of peace fills your mind.
You are able to find the snooze button, yet again, on the doomsday event unfolding in
your body.
Foolishly, after that, you don't excuse yourself from the table, find an empty hall, a vacant
corridor, or even a janitor's closet to take out your phone and begin screaming at Siri
(13:36):
to find you the closest bathroom.
No.
You're convinced.
The worst is behind you.
I can stay right where I am, staring into the eyes of this dreamy date I have found
myself on.
Is this it?
Could it be?
Am I sitting across from the one whom I will spend the rest of my life with?
The butterflies begin to playfully dance, except what is that in their little delicate
(13:58):
butterfly hands?
It's knives!
And these suckers are stabbing you from the inside, working on their escape that they
have been plotting since you thought starting your day with the chili cheese dog was a splendid
idea.
You put on a pain smile.
You're having such a pleasant time and don't want it to end yet.
You figure, you're in a crowded restaurant.
You can let loose a small, innocent, possibly room-clearing flatulent.
(14:22):
Worst case scenario, you blame it on the diabolical, crop-dusting son-of-a-gun waiter of yours.
You shift your weight and lean a little to your left, letting out a soft hissing sound.
You miscalculated.
Unbeknownst to you, you waited too long.
Some point earlier, you lost the ability to discern between a harmless fart or a complete
intestinal evacuation.
(14:44):
You've arrived at critical mass and the chain reaction has started.
You know this is it.
No more snoozes.
No more your body garbling the pain away.
If this is a movie, we're at the scene where plumes of billowy black smoke are hovering
over the seemingly once-invincible ship that is now sinking.
The sailors are in full-blown panic.
Power has been lost.
(15:04):
The only illumination comes from a singular swirling red light.
The brave crew is fighting off fires as pipes burst and steam fills the air.
It's a losing fight, but damn it, they aren't going gently into the night.
You now know what a fatal mistake you've made.
Not for your life, but for the prospect of the future you were just dreaming about mere
moments ago with the sexy individual sitting across from you.
(15:27):
She looks at you.
You look at her and try to remember everything about her as your survival instinct swallows
up your brain.
Fear overtakes your face.
No composure, just instinct.
You shoot up from the chair, your knees striking the table, knocking water everywhere, including
on your now ex-boo.
There is no recovery for what is about to unfold.
With haste, you make your way to the bathroom, knees locked, like your Frankenstein's monster
(15:51):
being chased by an angry torch and pitchfork-wielding mob.
With one hand, you Heisman everyone out of your way, and the other, you have the back
of your hand firmly placed on your butt crack as a makeshift plug, as you no longer trust
the structural integrity of your butt sphincter.
In your wake, it looks like a bull went on a rampage.
Fellow restaurant-goers are helping their fallen patrons back to their seats as they
(16:11):
stare in disbelief at the incident that unfolded seconds ago.
They wonder what kind of person would behave in such a way.
It doesn't matter.
The only proof left that you were in the room is the dense, stinky air that leaked from
you as you used it almost like a propulsion system to get you to the bathroom faster.
They were in your review mirror at this point.
You don't look back.
There's no time.
(16:32):
Perhaps they would understand, maybe even throw you a parade if they knew what a heavy
mantle you've been given.
They don't know you're no longer a mere person.
You're a soldier.
You've been charged with the mission to save everyone from the impending explosion.
Of course there were some casualties.
There always are in a disaster.
Your relationship, the restaurant's A, health code rating, your pride, but most notably
(16:54):
your underwear.
With valor, it fought valiantly to protect the pants.
Unfortunately, those too would be counted among the victims.
Steal your mind, you tell yourself.
There will be plenty of time to mourn the lost in the future.
For now, you refuse to let their sacrifices be in vain.
At this point, you're navigating the world with tear-filled eyes when you finally find
the bathroom.
(17:14):
Frantically, you shoulder charge the door and fly in.
You look up at the stall as the heavens open.
Angels begin to sing.
A light shines down on your destination.
You've made it.
Relief is moments away.
It was a messy battle, but it's time to come home, weary soldier.
You lock the door and turn your focus onto your pants.
With shaky hands and a clenched butt, you unbuckle your belt, letting your pants fall
(17:37):
around your ankles.
You continue your frantic march of the penguin with as much dignity as you can muster.
You've arrived at your sanctuary.
As you get to the stall, you see, out of order, plastered on the door.
You look at the sink and know what must be done.
These are just a few made-up, yet oddly specific, and in no way are experiences that I have
(17:57):
gone through, scenarios.
The point of these, again, completely fictitious situations and not pulling from real life
in any way, are to illustrate that although we think we are evolved creatures, there are
moments when we are completely at the mercy of what our body wants to do.
Now let's make the leap to tie this back in with my work life and podcasting.
(18:17):
There was a buildup of emotions happening in me that I wasn't fully aware of.
They were on the verge of bursting into a big event that I had no idea was on the horizon
this last time I decided to take a break or hit the proverbial snooze button on my
ambition of hosting my own podcast.
When I stepped away from learning the art of conversation podcast, my body decided it
(18:38):
was no longer going to absorb the discomfort.
It reached its capacity.
Conjure an image of a dam in your mind.
Oh, please, no.
Not another analogy.
Yes, another analogy.
Deal with it.
Simplistically, what is a dam?
No, you're wrong.
Well, unless you said, it's a structure put in place to control the flow of water from
(19:00):
one side to the other.
When I walked away from my podcast this time, I completely shut off the flow of the water.
Now after the water has no place to move, what happens?
The water builds up unevenly on one side.
Without intervention, the water will eventually overtake the dam.
Whether that's in the form of water overflowing from the top or the dam crumbling in complete
catastrophic failure.
(19:21):
I was experiencing the former and not realizing I was moments away from calamity.
My mind was fatigued, the dam failed, and let loose the flood.
What did the dam breaking look like for me?
The first time was a doozy.
They say you always remember your first time, and I wish that wasn't the case.
It came on a little before I was going to go to sleep.
(19:43):
Subtly at first, then it hit me like a truck.
It started with my heart rate steadily increasing to about double what was normal for me, coupled
with a bounding heartbeat.
You'd think with my heart beating the way it was, I must have been running from a tiger
or cheek kisses from an aggressively friendly neighbor, but I was only watching TV with
my wife.
I was confused and scared.
What was happening?
(20:04):
What was my heart doing?
I'm on the border of freaking out.
It was close to bedtime.
I tell myself that even though my heart rate is elevated, my chest is in pain, that if
I can fall asleep, my body will reset itself.
Everything will be normal when I wake up.
I get ready for bed, resolved to not alert my wife that something was happening within
me.
(20:24):
We both made it to bed without me letting on that I was feeling awful.
I then used my phone as a distraction from my heart, trying to kick itself out of my
chest until I was finally able to fall asleep.
An hour later, I woke up.
My heart was still raging like a feral cat trapped in a kennel.
I couldn't stay in bed.
Not in this state.
I quietly got out of bed, paced the living room feeling terrible in many ways.
(20:48):
I tried to calm myself down.
My body was uncooperative.
Heart racing and in pain, I could no longer stay in the apartment.
I was compelled to get away from where I was.
It's remarkable that when I opened the front door, I didn't wake up my wife.
We live in a small apartment with a front door that creaked like it was in a haunted
house.
Unwavering, I made my way outside, down our driveway following it all the way to where
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I was sure would be the place where I would die.
It was a circular landing in our neighborhood, which led to a few other people's driveways.
From here, I paced for hours.
Back and forth, round and round I went, stumbling along while the thoughts slammed around in
my head that at any second my legs would lose their strength and I'd collapse.
I was going to be overcome by the heart attack I was surely experiencing.
(21:35):
I had no doubt that my wife or a neighbor was going to find my lifeless body on their
commute to work.
After a significant amount of distance traveled and a little circular landing, I decided it
is too unfair for a random person to find my dead body.
I didn't want to scar them.
My wife?
She's tough.
She can handle a little dead husband in the morning.
I returned home greeted by my haunted house front door, along with a plot twist.
(22:00):
The door confirmed I was going to be the ghost that haunted the apartment.
Hold the phone.
Pause.
Alright, I get it.
You're thinking, why didn't you call 911 or wake up your wife so that she could take
you to the emergency room?
To that I say I don't have a good reason.
I was completely consumed by this overwhelming impending doom rushing through my body.
(22:20):
It was all I could focus on.
Rationality abandoned me hours ago.
Okay, that makes sense, I guess.
Time in.
I made it back to the apartment and continued my pacing in the living room.
After way too long of a time, the dread had begun to wane ever so slightly.
My heart rate was still well above my normal resting heart rate, but I was finally laying
(22:41):
on the couch.
Wanting distraction, I put in my headphones, found some Christian worship music, and prayed.
I needed to focus on something other than myself.
For whatever was left of the night, I found myself in a pattern of listening to music,
shallow sleep, waking up, escalating heartbeat, listening to music, de-escalation, to then
(23:01):
more shallow sleep.
This continued until morning when I finally felt somewhat normal again.
As normal as I could, given an exhaustive night and looming medical uncertainty.
Once I was back in my right mind, I set out to find what was ailing me.
I looked on my insurance provider's website for a general practitioner doctor and set
up the soonest appointment I could make.
(23:23):
Or, instead of doing that, I could NOT make an appointment and live in uncertainty.
Yeah, let's do that.
Let's go with the second one, it sounds more consistent with my character.
That being true, what I haven't mentioned up to this point is that a couple of months
after my wife and I got married, my wife had a medical emergency that required surgical
intervention.
Everything went well and she's since made a full recovery.
(23:45):
Even though we have insurance through my delivery company, that medical bill was substantial.
We were still making ends meet, but we wouldn't be able to shoulder more medical debt.
I did the most American thing that I can think of and lived in denial that there wasn't
anything serious happening in me while still paying for medical insurance.
As time went on, I kept having these mysterious medical episodes.
(24:07):
Sometimes they would be brief and other times they would last hours.
Whatever the duration, I'd do whatever I could to distract myself from what I was feeling
because every time it happened in the past, I eventually got through it.
Each time I was always graced with the thought that maybe this time would be different and
I would die, but so far so good.
Let's keep on ignoring it and hope it goes away.
At any moment of the day, I could have one of these episodes, but at least when night
(24:30):
time came, I could get a break when I would go to sleep.
False.
On occasion, I would get woken up by my heart racing and have a restless night of pacing
instead.
There was always this kind of low-grade internal fear that I was going to have one of these
episodes.
My favorite was when just thinking about one of these experiences would elicit another
one.
This continued for the next year, culminating into one climactic moment while I was out
(24:54):
on my delivery route.
It was a beautiful coastal California day.
I was about halfway through my workday when I started experiencing mild discomfort in
my chest.
This wasn't too alarming in of itself.
It should have been, but it wasn't.
It was a little different from the normal chest pain, still familiar enough.
It wasn't until I was hit with what felt like a semi-outer body experience that I became
(25:17):
more concerned.
This next part is hard to describe.
It was like someone had a supernatural weapon that knocked my soul out of my body, but it
was only partially effective.
I was in control of my body, just in a different way than normal.
It was almost like I was sitting behind myself controlling my movements like a puppet master
would their puppet.
It felt foreign to move my body.
(25:38):
What would normally be unconscious movements, like adjusting the speed of the vehicle or
subtle movements in the steering wheel, were now all directives I had to give to my body
in order to perform the function.
Nothing was automatic.
My strength and my reflexes were still present.
I could still move my arms fast and grip the steering wheel with the strength of a kung-fu master.
I imagine if anyone was looking in the vehicle as I was experiencing this episode, they would
(26:01):
think I was using karate chops to defend myself from a devious fly.
My arms were flailing about like I was one of those inflatable mascots you see outside
of car dealerships.
This is just what it looked like as I was checking in with my body while trying to figure
out the sensation that has come over me.
I considered pulling over a few times.
Ultimately, I decided I was with it enough to continue driving to my next destination
(26:24):
which was about 15 minutes away.
By the time I arrived in the next city, I was feeling somewhat normal.
The chest and puppet master sensation had subsided.
I had a little time before I needed to deliver my next package.
I wanted to get out of the delivery van and walk around.
I was curious if the sensation would come back when I changed positions from sitting
to standing.
(26:44):
After I pulled over in a dirt lot, it just so happened that an ambulance pulled in after
me in the same lot.
One of the crews needed to change his work uniform and he felt that the dirt lot with
a voyeur delivery driver was a good spot.
I sat there for a minute thinking a few things.
Was that novel sensation I felt earlier progression of whatever health issue I've been having
for the past year?
What was that paramedic's workout routine?
(27:06):
He looks great.
And more pressing, what are the odds that an ambulance would pull up to the dirt lot
of where I just so happened to pull over to?
The city where I was had a population of only a few thousand.
It wasn't like ambulances were stationed everywhere.
This is God throwing a lifeline to me.
It had to be.
I built up the courage and walked over to them.
(27:26):
Told them I was feeling weird and asked them to hook me up to their heart monitoring machine.
They agreed.
I stepped into the ambulance and they stepped into action.
They began asking me about my health history while running a few diagnostic tests on me.
It was surreal.
Not too long ago, I was the person in the ambulance getting a patient's history and
baseline vitals.
Now I'm the patient.
(27:48):
At one point during the process, the paramedic asked if he can go from a 3 lead EKG to a
12 lead EKG.
I tell him yeah.
A lead is a patch with a wire coming out of it that connects from the patient to a heart
monitor.
It measures the electrical impulses sent out from your heart.
If you've ever seen a show or movie where someone is in the hospital, you have seen
an EKG lead.
Going from a 3 to 12 lead will give the paramedics a better picture of the electrical activity
(28:12):
going on in my heart.
Shortly after adding the extra leads, the paramedic giving the EKG shows his coworker
the results.
He asked if I have a history of heart issues.
I reply that I do not, which is sort of true.
I don't have any official history of heart issues.
He then goes on to say that they cannot rule out that I am indeed having a heart attack,
which his paramedics speak for.
(28:33):
We think you're having a heart attack, but for liability reasons, we can't officially
diagnose you.
I ask, are you sure?
And he says, the electrical signals that we are seeing given off by your heart makes
it likely, but not absolute.
He shows me the results, but I don't know how to read an EKG.
We go back and forth from them wanting to transport me to the hospital to me saying,
but yeah, am I really having a heart attack?
(28:57):
At this point, I was still physically feeling better from the episode that I had earlier.
Mentally, a little touch and go.
There were some lingering intangible sensations left, but overall, somewhat normal.
This was the chief reason I was skeptical of the paramedic's unofficial, official diagnosis
that I was having a heart attack.
I had some medical training.
(29:17):
I knew what the classic signs of a heart attack looked like.
Pale, clammy skin, rapid heartbeat, radiating pain coming from the chest.
Those weren't my symptoms.
If I was having a heart attack, would my symptoms present the way that they did and then subside?
I didn't have cell phone service where I was, so I asked the paramedic if I could borrow
his phone to call my wife.
(29:37):
True to the stereotype of millennials not picking up phone numbers they don't recognize,
she didn't pick up when she saw the unknown number.
I left a message and continued going back and forth with the paramedic if I should go
to the hospital.
I relent and say, sure, take me to the hospital.
At that this time, I call my boss, tell her that I may be having a heart attack and cannot
complete my deliveries for the day.
(29:58):
She is appropriately concerned about the news but says don't worry about the deliveries,
she'll figure something out and hopes everything is okay.
In the back of her mind, I know she's thinking, I'm going to randomly drug test this dude.
One paramedic calls into the dispatch letting them know that they have a patient and are
about to be inbound to the hospital.
As he did that, the other receives a call from my wife.
(30:19):
I talk to her, she is a little alarmed but I do my best to let her know the situation
in that I feel fine for someone potentially experiencing a heart attack.
Through reassuring her, I reassure, delude, whatever you want to call it, myself, that
I wasn't having a heart attack.
My wife and I work out a plan that she would take me to the hospital instead of the ambulance.
I throw down my UNO reverse card and stick to my original decision that I was feeling
(30:42):
unlucky and would gamble that they were wrong.
I decline the hospital ride, signed a waiver that said I understand the paramedic's recommendation
to go to the hospital and that if I should die, the paramedic company would not be held
liable.
It was really shaping up to be an exciting day for me.
Before they leave, they say if I change my mind, call 911 and they will take me to the
hospital.
They recommend that I don't drive anymore in case I succumb to the heart attack.
(31:05):
That way if I were to pass out behind the wheel, I don't take anyone out with me. Sound advice.
I tell them I won't.
They close their ambulance doors and ride off into the sunset.
Sunrise?
I don't know.
It was the afternoon.
Either way, I was alone now.
I left out some key information up to this point.
The closest hospital was about 40 minutes from where I was.
(31:26):
My wife was on her way but had to travel about an hour to get to me.
She would be coming from the general direction of where the hospital was.
Once she arrives, then she would have to drive back in the direction that she came from.
Best case scenario, I was an hour and 40 minutes from the closest emergency room.
This is where the mind f-bomb happens.
I had medical professionals who had real-time, objective health information about me recommend
(31:51):
that they take me to the hospital.
Instead, I declined.
I sent them on their way so that I could be left alone in a dirt lot because I didn't
want to pay for an ambulance ride.
If I do have another heart episode, will I even have the wherewithal to call 911 to ask
for help?
Oh yeah, except I don't have cell reception where I am.
I am overcome with regret and impending doom.
(32:12):
All I could do was distract my mind as best as I could.
I made my bed.
It was time to lie in it.
I was just hoping it wasn't my deathbed.
Needless to say, it was a long hour waiting for my wife to arrive and an even longer drive
to the hospital.
Fast forward to the hospital.
They do all the tests.
The doctor comes back with the results and says, actually, we went a little too far.
(32:34):
Rewind a little bit.
I remember lying in the hospital bed having the nurse give me an EKG.
This was the same test the paramedics used to come to the conclusion that I may be having
a heart attack.
As she was looking at the results and I know she knows how to read an EKG, she knows the
results, I'm asking her if I had a heart attack.
Turns out she's the world's best secret keeper.
(32:56):
I'm desperate to know.
If someone was offering me the winning lottery ticket to a billion dollar jackpot, billion
with a B as in a billion or knowledge if I had a heart attack or not, I'm picking the
lottery.
I'm dying, not dead.
Are you crazy?
Give me that money.
Build me a pyramid and bury me with the rest.
That hypothetical being a hypothetical, I look back at the nurse.
(33:19):
Am I dying or what?
Give me something.
If you can't tell me, then give me a wink.
Sign it to me.
Flag signals, smoke signals, Morse code.
I don't know it, but I can learn. Anything!
Give me something.
Nope.
Nothing.
I have a strong hunch she has made a lot of money playing poker.
In her defense, the same way a paramedic isn't allowed to make a diagnosis, neither is the
(33:43):
nurse.
Although, I really would have appreciated the breach in protocol.
The doctor came in shortly after and said everything came back good.
The chest pain was probably caused by reflux and the weird sensation that I thought was
a spirit world concussion grenade was nothing more than vertigo.
Okay, but what about my heart?
The paramedic said that my heart rhythm was crazy.
(34:04):
Not like my heart was really good at the drums, but the actual electrical signal telling my
heart to beat was crazy.
He said, those goofy bastards, his words, not mine, they overdramatize occasionally.
The doctor agreed that I do have an irregular heartbeat, but he said it's irregularly regular.
For example, a mole on your skin.
It is irregular to have a mole on your skin, but it's commonplace to have a mole on your
(34:26):
skin.
Right?
He says.
Right. Then I say whats that behind you?
Then I grab the clean bill of health he just gave me and run out the hospital door before
he can change his mind.
Mission successful.
Turns out, I'm not dying today.
After the hospital, I did what you should never do when you're having unknown health
issues and I googled my symptoms.
This is probably the only time in history where what Google diagnosed me with was less
(34:50):
severe than what I thought I had.
My symptoms all fit in quite nicely to what can be described as a panic or anxiety attack.
I felt confident that this was the unknown ailment that I have been doing battle with
for the past year.
I was especially emboldened after I saw that panic attacks can mirror symptoms of a heart
attack.
B-I-N-G-O.
Bingo.
(35:11):
That's all I needed to read, especially after getting the thumbs up from the doc that my
ticker was healthy.
If you've never experienced a panic attack, you're a lucky duck.
I imagine everything I'm saying to you is as foreign a concept as it was to me before
I started experiencing them.
The person is just being dramatic.
Calm down.
Relax already.
(35:31):
I wish you could rationalize your way out of it.
Unfortunately, your prefrontal cortex goes on strike and hands over the control panel
to your hypothalamus and amygdala.
There is no logic to be found.
The best succinct explanation of a panic attack I heard was it was like having a broken Spidey
sense.
From those of you that don't know Spider-Man from the Marvel comics, he is a superhero
(35:52):
who has an ability where he can sense incoming danger before it happens.
It's like he can perceive the malice of an intent before anything has materialized.
It's called his Spidey sense.
With a panic attack, you feel danger is all around you, but there is no danger.
Your fight-or-flight, sympathetic-parasympathetic nervous systems are going haywire, yet there
(36:13):
is nothing to fight nor flee from.
Now, I'm not a doctor and I don't play one on this podcast either, so take this next
bit of information through that lens.
First and foremost, if you're ever experiencing anything resembling what I, your favorite
described earlier, don't wait.
Go seek out the advice of a medical professional.
Any medical debt incurred is worth the peace of mind.
(36:34):
Second, it doesn't take too many of these panic episodes until I've said, okay, I've
lived my life with panic attacks and without.
I think I'd like to go back to living my life without them.
I'm not against medication.
If I have a headache, I'll take an Excedrin.
If I have a tummy ache, I'll take a Tums.
Yet I wasn't keen on the idea of having to take medication for anxiety for the foreseeable
(36:55):
future or perhaps even the rest of my life.
If that's what I ended up having to do, I would, but I wanted to explore other avenues
first.
I tried looking objectively at what was happening with my body during a panic attack.
I came to the conclusion that essentially, again, not a doctor, just your favorite podcast
host, that my fight or flight switch was stuck toggled on.
(37:16):
This was letting loose a cocktail of hormones that left me feeling everything I've already
discussed earlier.
I extrapolated that it was an energy in, energy out equation imbalance.
I had too much coming in and not enough going out.
I'll yield that this is a reductionist perspective.
I still decided that a good place to start to combat the surge of energy that was coming
from my sympathetic nervous system activating for no reason was to start exercising again.
(37:41):
My panic attacks happened mostly in the morning or nights.
I decided my best course of action would be to work out in the mornings in order to deplete
any extra energy.
There were some days where I was having a panic attack and all I could do was sit on
the stationary bike, maybe doing 10 revolutions a minute.
Yet, I would always feel better after I left the gym.
Maybe not 100% over the episode, but markedly better than when I entered the gym.
(38:05):
I never had such a good accountability partner for the gym as an impending panic attack.
Always lurking at the fringes of my psyche, waiting for me to slip up so it could come
on home and rough me up.
As time passed, the anxiety disappeared and what stayed was the lesson.
My body was sick of my shit.
I have the energy, whether it's mental or physical.
It needs an outlet.
(38:26):
If I choose to do nothing, then my will is going to get circumvented and anxiety will
take the reins.
This whole part of my life I'm recounting didn't have to look the way it did.
As I'm living out my life, there are a lot of people living out theirs.
Over 8 billion and counting.
Of those, there is a lot of inspiration to draw from.
A lot of paths I can follow to possibly get the results that I'm looking for as it comes
(38:47):
to finding satisfaction in life.
It turns out, I'm one of those people that has to touch the hot stove multiple times
to learn my lesson.
I didn't have to keep pushing down my desires until my ambition was trying to kill me via
making my heart explode.
I could have chosen forward progress.
I should have let myself make mistakes and figured it out as I went.
Still, I used these experiences not only as an accountability partner to start participating
(39:11):
in more activity in my life, but as a catalyst for restarting my podcast ambition.
I wasn't going back to learning the art of conversation podcast, but I did have a new
podcast idea that I was excited to look into and unleash upon the world.
That's where I'll leave it for this episode of Revelizations.
I know these episodes have been heavy, especially this one.
I appreciate you tuning in.
(39:31):
After this, it will get lighter.
The following episodes will be more about me exploring different ideas for a podcast
and perhaps even getting some interviews.
See you next time.
Thanks for listening.
(40:10):
Huh?
Is this thing on?
Damn kids and their technology.
I thought I aged out at getting to see what shenanigans the neighbors were getting into.
Boy, was I wrong.
I've been using binoculars for five years now.
(40:32):
Nothing beats the ease and zooming properties of binoculars.
Nothing beats the ease and zooming properties of binoculars.
Oh, did I say that already?
Who are you?
Right, my testimonial.
Now where was I?
A new neighbor moved in and they were always up to something.
Now with binoculars, no more embarrassing moments of thinking my neighbor is having
(40:56):
a barbecue, bringing over some steaks when he is actually having a swinger's party,
and the guest brought enough hot dogs to feed everyone.
With binoculars, I know before I even leave my house if I need to bring over a tasty
snack or if this speedo-wearing tasty snack is all that's necessary.
Here's looking at you, binoculars.
(41:18):
Binoculars, when you want to be nosy without anyone noticing.
Available exclusively at your local peeping store.
This episode of Revelizations is brought to you by Binoculars.
(00:12):
Oh no, what are they doing this time?
Your weird neighbors are up to no good again.
Or are they?
You can sort of see them, but they're a little too far to see in detail what they're up to.
Make that a problem of your past with binoculars.
Binoculars give you the convenience of eagle-eye vision without any of that eagle flying around
(00:35):
inconvenience.
Now deciding on whether you're bringing over brownies to that barbecue across the street
or putting your house up for sale after witnessing one too many rituals has never been made easier.
Binoculars.
When you want to be nosy without anyone noticing.
Available exclusively at your local peeping store.
(00:56):
Hi, I'm Brian James and welcome to Revelizations.
(01:21):
Previously on Revelizations, Brian and his wife have moved to California after some working
as a delivery driver, he comes to the Revelization that it sure would be swell to host his own
podcast.
He comes up with an idea for his podcast, buys the equipment, and sets out on trying
to get his first episode recorded.
After some minor hiccups, he fortifies his resolve.
(01:42):
He will not be deterred.
Oh, what's that?
It's actually easier to just walk away from the podcast than to brainstorm on ways to
make it work?
Yeah, then let's definitely do that then.
On this episode, I went back and forth whether or not to include this part.
It is uncomfortable to talk about and may even be a little uncomfortable to listen to.
I could take it out and I think the feel and overall sentiment of what I'm trying to accomplish
(02:06):
in these first few episodes would still be achieved.
However, in this sample for my life, I learned a valuable lesson.
Is one lesson worth a whole podcast?
Well, I devoted two episodes where it appears that I've learned zero lessons.
A podcast where there is a tangible take away seems like a nice breath of fresh air,
and isn't that the point of including anything about my podcast journey in my podcast?
(02:29):
The hope that through my mess-ups I can help at least one person avoid the same mistakes.
As the person making the podcast I can confidently assure you that is the point.
Enough dancing around the episode. Let's dance with it.
This analogy may hit some of you wrong, or perhaps it will bring up a bad memory or twos,
(02:50):
but nonetheless, it's an unavoidable human experience.
Dust off that old file in your brain titled Shred Immediately and let's give it a peek.
Recall a time in your life when you had to go to the bathroom really, really bad.
Not pee, rather a twosie situation.
Undoubtedly, you just broke out into a cold sweat.
You lived through it once.
(03:10):
Why do you have to relive it again?
It's too late.
You're in it now.
Flashback filter, engaged.
You're in your formative years.
You're a young pop in your college days and summer break has just started.
You learned what you needed to learn to pass all your classes, but that intro to philosophy
class has left a lasting impact.
It really got your wheels turning in more ways than one.
(03:33):
You're going on a road trip, not only to explore the country, but yourself.
The next time someone asks you to, Tell me about yourself? You are going to have a profound
answer.
The morning of your trip, the alarm clock goes off and you jump out of bed to get a
jump on the day.
You'd be leaving before your normal potty time routine, but you made all the necessary
preparations.
(03:54):
The rental car got packed the night before and you had a heavy fiber dinner while avoiding
any cheeses.
After you turn on and off your stove five times, flip all the light switches three times
while avoiding any cracks, you know, normal human behaviors, you're just about ready
to leave on your trip of national, and more importantly, self-discovery.
Last thing you need to do is go to the bathroom.
(04:16):
You bear down, but that bear is still in hibernation.
You wait an extra 15 minutes, hop up and down a bit in hopes to aid in compacting everything
and encourage that final step in the digestive process.
It worked in that documentary you watched, or was it a cartoon?
Nevertheless, traffic waits for no man or bowel movement.
(04:38):
It's time to leave, and although you're leaving with more baggage than you wanted, you head
out the door.
You're now four hours into your road trip, and only an hour till you're at your first
destination.
What was supposed to take close to six hours is only going to take you five.
You're making really good time when nature calls.
Your dinner of a Metamucil smoothie followed by a coffee breakfast has finished running
(04:59):
its course through your digestive track.
It's time for the beverages final leg of their trip.
Well, you delayed leaving for your trip by a little bit, so now it's their turn to have
their own departure delayed.
You really can't stress it enough.
You're making too good of time and don't want to make any unnecessary stops, except
this wasn't a check-in call.
This was a courtesy call.
(05:20):
That train was leaving on time, with or without your permission.
Other than that minor blip, your philosophy-inspired trip went off without a hitch.
It was time to bring back your rental car.
You pull up to the return kiosk and are greeted by a customer service agent.
You roll down your window, and he asks, tell me about...
Myself?
You quickly interrupt.
Confidently, you declare, I'm someone who won't let obstacles stop me from where I
(05:43):
want to go.
After saying this, you raise your eyebrows, allowing the sunglasses to carelessly fall
to the edge of your nose, accompanied by a sly side-smirk.
The customer service agent's eyes light up, and he begins to slow clap.
This gets the attention of his coworkers.
They walk over, clapping as well.
The intensity of the applause builds up to what eventually erupts into loud cheers as they hoist you onto
(06:07):
their shoulders, parading you around the business.
They shout, he did it, that son of a bitch!
He did it!
He knows who he is!
They lift you from their shoulders, throwing you into the air as you freeze frame midair.
What?
No.
The customer service agent opens the door, snapping you out of your daydream.
Tell me about your experience with the car.
(06:28):
Any problems or accidents I need to be aware of?
You reply, I don't know.
You tell me.
As you get out of the car to get your belongings from the trunk, the agent lets out a gasp
as he beholds the violence of the aftermath of the Metamucil shake on the car seat you
just got up from.
He runs off, doing his best to hold back a quick succession of gags.
(06:49):
Sure, you didn't get your deposit back on your rental car, but lesson learned.
You know who you are, and maybe next road trip you'll sit on a towel.
Or there was the other bathroom emergency when you were out with your friends, having
a good time, laughing the night away until it got serious.
The Mexican food hit you sooner than you thought it would.
(07:09):
Mexican cuisine is delicious, but it's not one to linger.
It has places to go, and it needs to go pronto.
You grasp your belly, look at your friend, and let him know you're calling in your favor.
The one where you and him stayed up all night, and by process of elimination, you finally
found which hotel Taylor Swift was staying in.
It wasn't stalking, but you don't want to get into that now.
(07:31):
Not without your lawyer present.
As you both swiftly make your way to Taylor's hotel, you and your friend devise the perfect
subtle plan to get her attention.
You arrive at the hotel lobby, just as she is leaving with her entourage of friends and
bodyguards.
She is about to walk by you, and so you put into action Operation Fearless.
Like a flying squirrel, you hurl yourself at Taylor Swift's bodyguards, full starfish
(07:54):
for maximum bodyguard contact, to buy your friend a moment so he could lock eyes with
Tay-Tay, wink, and say,
Why can't you see?
You belong with me.
*Sings* You belong with me.
Before he too was tackled by a burly, yet gentle bodyguard.
You held up your end of the deal then, and now it was time for your friend to hold up
his.
(08:14):
The age-old rite of the favor redemption has been invoked.
With the Mexican food throwing a fiesta in your gut, you tell your friend to make sure
the bathroom is free.
He doesn't ask questions.
He doesn't even take a moment to remind you that he told you that it was a bad idea to
wear those pristine white jean shorts.
He knows, when he looks at you, he's looking at his future as he gazes upon the quiet desperation
(08:36):
in your eyes, because he too indulged in the all-you-can-eat Mexican buffet.
He wastes no time.
Like a hired goon, he gets to work making sure the bathroom stall is empty.
You receive a text moments later that, the coast is clear, eagles free to come in for
the landing.
Your friend stands outside the entrance to the bathroom, bouncing people as they try
to come in.
(08:57):
They complain, but he stoically points out a list he is holding.
If your name's not on the list, you're not getting in.
It's just some toilet paper he grabbed as he was doing his initial reconnaissance.
But that's privy information, and they aren't privy.
You approach the bathroom with an air about you, like you're the head of a major crime
syndicate.
You inconspicuously walk past your friend, giving a mutual nod as you do.
(09:19):
You're now safely behind the door.
You lock it and beeline straight to the toilet.
It's an emergency, but even in an emergency, certain protocols must be maintained.
There is no way your butt is coming into contact with a public toilet.
Normally you'd hover, except you had a heavy leg workout that day and you don't trust
your legs to not buckle as you squat over the toilet.
(09:40):
You're not falling in dirty toilet water.
You learned your lesson.
You won't make that mistake for a third time.
Once in the stall, you begin the commencement of the bathroom ceremony, giving proper respect
to the toilet.
You adorn the toilet seat with the most decadent single-ply toilet paper in all the bathroom.
Triple applied, of course, for extra buffer.
You do your ancestral potty dance in front of the toilet as you convulse and shimmy your
(10:02):
lower garments off in hopes to appease the toilet deity so that it may bless you with
no splashback as you let loose the rage of the storm ravaging your gut.
You sit, let out a heavy sigh, among other things, and crisis averted.
You know you're never going to live it down from your friend, but the white jeans stay
white and suddenly you have more room for Mexican food.
(10:24):
If you're by yourself or among friends, as bleak and embarrassing as those moments can
be, they are recoverable.
That's not always how the story goes.
Sometimes, fate decides you're carrying yourself with a little too much pride.
You need to be humbled.
Perhaps you're getting into too many arguments with internet strangers on whether or not
a hot dog is a sandwich, or worse yet, you make a slight faux pas while driving.
(10:47):
You're navigating a street with heavy road construction.
The lane you're currently occupying is ending and you need to merge.
You could do so now, but then you would be in a long line of traffic.
Instead, you decide that you'll keep going straight until you absolutely have to get
over.
Someone will let you in.
You normally don't drive in such an inconsiderate manner.
This had to be the exception.
(11:09):
You're meeting up with someone you fancy and are almost late for your date.
That would be unacceptable.
After all, you know who you are.
You're a person who is going to get where they are going, regardless of the obstacles,
except you've made a mistake.
You did save yourself an extra 30 seconds of drive time.
However, in doing so, not only did you catch the attention of the person you cut off and
(11:30):
that one specific finger they keep wanting to show you, but you caught the attention
of fate.
She decided that this karmic injustice needs to be rectified.
You arrive to the restaurant before your date does.
You take your seat and just as you do, she walks in.
You wave with one hand, and the other you rub your stomach to settle it a bit.
It's just some nerves, you tell yourself.
(11:51):
This will be your third date.
You two are well on your journey of exploring a love connection.
You have some foundation, but the relationship is still fragile, like a little canary.
It needs plenty of nurturing, and more importantly, fresh air.
You really think she can be the one, but if she catches wind of your wind, then your whirlwind
romance is going to get blown away.
(12:12):
So you keep it to yourself.
There's a rock in your gut, but love in your heart.
Not always does a situation go from chill to dire quickly.
Most of the time, your body does you the courtesy to let you know that it would be in your own
best interest to go to the bathroom reasonably soon.
It often starts as a gentle nudge, a slight signal sent to your brain that says, hey bro,
you need to go to the bathroom soon-ish.
(12:34):
No rush, everything's under control, just letting you know you have a shipment that
needs to be sent out.
Please wrap up what you're doing in a timely manner and find a bathroom.
You say thanks for the notification, hit snooze, order a bubbly beverage from the waiter to
help settle your stomach, and get back to your date.
Now, no one likes to be ignored, not even your own gut.
(12:54):
Second time around, instead of a polite greeting, it's a cramp or a gurgling sound from somewhere
deep in your body.
Where did that come from, you think to yourself?
Oh well, back to what I was doing.
The gases are starting to build up, that uncomfortable feeling of pressure intensifying in your lower
digestive tract, but lo.
Your body does whatever it does, where it makes that groggle, groggle, groggle sound,
(13:16):
and the pressure is relieved.
At least for the time being, a false sense of peace fills your mind.
You are able to find the snooze button, yet again, on the doomsday event unfolding in
your body.
Foolishly, after that, you don't excuse yourself from the table, find an empty hall, a vacant
corridor, or even a janitor's closet to take out your phone and begin screaming at Siri
(13:36):
to find you the closest bathroom.
No.
You're convinced.
The worst is behind you.
I can stay right where I am, staring into the eyes of this dreamy date I have found
myself on.
Is this it?
Could it be?
Am I sitting across from the one whom I will spend the rest of my life with?
The butterflies begin to playfully dance, except what is that in their little delicate
(13:58):
butterfly hands?
It's knives!
And these suckers are stabbing you from the inside, working on their escape that they
have been plotting since you thought starting your day with the chili cheese dog was a splendid
idea.
You put on a pain smile.
You're having such a pleasant time and don't want it to end yet.
You figure, you're in a crowded restaurant.
You can let loose a small, innocent, possibly room-clearing flatulent.
(14:22):
Worst case scenario, you blame it on the diabolical, crop-dusting son-of-a-gun waiter of yours.
You shift your weight and lean a little to your left, letting out a soft hissing sound.
You miscalculated.
Unbeknownst to you, you waited too long.
Some point earlier, you lost the ability to discern between a harmless fart or a complete
intestinal evacuation.
(14:44):
You've arrived at critical mass and the chain reaction has started.
You know this is it.
No more snoozes.
No more your body garbling the pain away.
If this is a movie, we're at the scene where plumes of billowy black smoke are hovering
over the seemingly once-invincible ship that is now sinking.
The sailors are in full-blown panic.
Power has been lost.
(15:04):
The only illumination comes from a singular swirling red light.
The brave crew is fighting off fires as pipes burst and steam fills the air.
It's a losing fight, but damn it, they aren't going gently into the night.
You now know what a fatal mistake you've made.
Not for your life, but for the prospect of the future you were just dreaming about mere
moments ago with the sexy individual sitting across from you.
(15:27):
She looks at you.
You look at her and try to remember everything about her as your survival instinct swallows
up your brain.
Fear overtakes your face.
No composure, just instinct.
You shoot up from the chair, your knees striking the table, knocking water everywhere, including
on your now ex-boo.
There is no recovery for what is about to unfold.
With haste, you make your way to the bathroom, knees locked, like your Frankenstein's monster
(15:51):
being chased by an angry torch and pitchfork-wielding mob.
With one hand, you Heisman everyone out of your way, and the other, you have the back
of your hand firmly placed on your butt crack as a makeshift plug, as you no longer trust
the structural integrity of your butt sphincter.
In your wake, it looks like a bull went on a rampage.
Fellow restaurant-goers are helping their fallen patrons back to their seats as they
(16:11):
stare in disbelief at the incident that unfolded seconds ago.
They wonder what kind of person would behave in such a way.
It doesn't matter.
The only proof left that you were in the room is the dense, stinky air that leaked from
you as you used it almost like a propulsion system to get you to the bathroom faster.
They were in your review mirror at this point.
You don't look back.
There's no time.
(16:32):
Perhaps they would understand, maybe even throw you a parade if they knew what a heavy
mantle you've been given.
They don't know you're no longer a mere person.
You're a soldier.
You've been charged with the mission to save everyone from the impending explosion.
Of course there were some casualties.
There always are in a disaster.
Your relationship, the restaurant's A, health code rating, your pride, but most notably
(16:54):
your underwear.
With valor, it fought valiantly to protect the pants.
Unfortunately, those too would be counted among the victims.
Steal your mind, you tell yourself.
There will be plenty of time to mourn the lost in the future.
For now, you refuse to let their sacrifices be in vain.
At this point, you're navigating the world with tear-filled eyes when you finally find
the bathroom.
(17:14):
Frantically, you shoulder charge the door and fly in.
You look up at the stall as the heavens open.
Angels begin to sing.
A light shines down on your destination.
You've made it.
Relief is moments away.
It was a messy battle, but it's time to come home, weary soldier.
You lock the door and turn your focus onto your pants.
With shaky hands and a clenched butt, you unbuckle your belt, letting your pants fall
(17:37):
around your ankles.
You continue your frantic march of the penguin with as much dignity as you can muster.
You've arrived at your sanctuary.
As you get to the stall, you see, out of order, plastered on the door.
You look at the sink and know what must be done.
These are just a few made-up, yet oddly specific, and in no way are experiences that I have
(17:57):
gone through, scenarios.
The point of these, again, completely fictitious situations and not pulling from real life
in any way, are to illustrate that although we think we are evolved creatures, there are
moments when we are completely at the mercy of what our body wants to do.
Now let's make the leap to tie this back in with my work life and podcasting.
(18:17):
There was a buildup of emotions happening in me that I wasn't fully aware of.
They were on the verge of bursting into a big event that I had no idea was on the horizon
this last time I decided to take a break or hit the proverbial snooze button on my
ambition of hosting my own podcast.
When I stepped away from learning the art of conversation podcast, my body decided it
(18:38):
was no longer going to absorb the discomfort.
It reached its capacity.
Conjure an image of a dam in your mind.
Oh, please, no.
Not another analogy.
Yes, another analogy.
Deal with it.
Simplistically, what is a dam?
No, you're wrong.
Well, unless you said, it's a structure put in place to control the flow of water from
(19:00):
one side to the other.
When I walked away from my podcast this time, I completely shut off the flow of the water.
Now after the water has no place to move, what happens?
The water builds up unevenly on one side.
Without intervention, the water will eventually overtake the dam.
Whether that's in the form of water overflowing from the top or the dam crumbling in complete
catastrophic failure.
(19:21):
I was experiencing the former and not realizing I was moments away from calamity.
My mind was fatigued, the dam failed, and let loose the flood.
What did the dam breaking look like for me?
The first time was a doozy.
They say you always remember your first time, and I wish that wasn't the case.
It came on a little before I was going to go to sleep.
(19:43):
Subtly at first, then it hit me like a truck.
It started with my heart rate steadily increasing to about double what was normal for me, coupled
with a bounding heartbeat.
You'd think with my heart beating the way it was, I must have been running from a tiger
or cheek kisses from an aggressively friendly neighbor, but I was only watching TV with
my wife.
I was confused and scared.
What was happening?
(20:04):
What was my heart doing?
I'm on the border of freaking out.
It was close to bedtime.
I tell myself that even though my heart rate is elevated, my chest is in pain, that if
I can fall asleep, my body will reset itself.
Everything will be normal when I wake up.
I get ready for bed, resolved to not alert my wife that something was happening within
me.
(20:24):
We both made it to bed without me letting on that I was feeling awful.
I then used my phone as a distraction from my heart, trying to kick itself out of my
chest until I was finally able to fall asleep.
An hour later, I woke up.
My heart was still raging like a feral cat trapped in a kennel.
I couldn't stay in bed.
Not in this state.
I quietly got out of bed, paced the living room feeling terrible in many ways.
(20:48):
I tried to calm myself down.
My body was uncooperative.
Heart racing and in pain, I could no longer stay in the apartment.
I was compelled to get away from where I was.
It's remarkable that when I opened the front door, I didn't wake up my wife.
We live in a small apartment with a front door that creaked like it was in a haunted
house.
Unwavering, I made my way outside, down our driveway following it all the way to where
(21:12):
I was sure would be the place where I would die.
It was a circular landing in our neighborhood, which led to a few other people's driveways.
From here, I paced for hours.
Back and forth, round and round I went, stumbling along while the thoughts slammed around in
my head that at any second my legs would lose their strength and I'd collapse.
I was going to be overcome by the heart attack I was surely experiencing.
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I had no doubt that my wife or a neighbor was going to find my lifeless body on their
commute to work.
After a significant amount of distance traveled and a little circular landing, I decided it
is too unfair for a random person to find my dead body.
I didn't want to scar them.
My wife?
She's tough.
She can handle a little dead husband in the morning.
I returned home greeted by my haunted house front door, along with a plot twist.
(22:00):
The door confirmed I was going to be the ghost that haunted the apartment.
Hold the phone.
Pause.
Alright, I get it.
You're thinking, why didn't you call 911 or wake up your wife so that she could take
you to the emergency room?
To that I say I don't have a good reason.
I was completely consumed by this overwhelming impending doom rushing through my body.
(22:20):
It was all I could focus on.
Rationality abandoned me hours ago.
Okay, that makes sense, I guess.
Time in.
I made it back to the apartment and continued my pacing in the living room.
After way too long of a time, the dread had begun to wane ever so slightly.
My heart rate was still well above my normal resting heart rate, but I was finally laying
(22:41):
on the couch.
Wanting distraction, I put in my headphones, found some Christian worship music, and prayed.
I needed to focus on something other than myself.
For whatever was left of the night, I found myself in a pattern of listening to music,
shallow sleep, waking up, escalating heartbeat, listening to music, de-escalation, to then
(23:01):
more shallow sleep.
This continued until morning when I finally felt somewhat normal again.
As normal as I could, given an exhaustive night and looming medical uncertainty.
Once I was back in my right mind, I set out to find what was ailing me.
I looked on my insurance provider's website for a general practitioner doctor and set
up the soonest appointment I could make.
(23:23):
Or, instead of doing that, I could NOT make an appointment and live in uncertainty.
Yeah, let's do that.
Let's go with the second one, it sounds more consistent with my character.
That being true, what I haven't mentioned up to this point is that a couple of months
after my wife and I got married, my wife had a medical emergency that required surgical
intervention.
Everything went well and she's since made a full recovery.
(23:45):
Even though we have insurance through my delivery company, that medical bill was substantial.
We were still making ends meet, but we wouldn't be able to shoulder more medical debt.
I did the most American thing that I can think of and lived in denial that there wasn't
anything serious happening in me while still paying for medical insurance.
As time went on, I kept having these mysterious medical episodes.
(24:07):
Sometimes they would be brief and other times they would last hours.
Whatever the duration, I'd do whatever I could to distract myself from what I was feeling
because every time it happened in the past, I eventually got through it.
Each time I was always graced with the thought that maybe this time would be different and
I would die, but so far so good.
Let's keep on ignoring it and hope it goes away.
At any moment of the day, I could have one of these episodes, but at least when night
(24:30):
time came, I could get a break when I would go to sleep.
False.
On occasion, I would get woken up by my heart racing and have a restless night of pacing
instead.
There was always this kind of low-grade internal fear that I was going to have one of these
episodes.
My favorite was when just thinking about one of these experiences would elicit another
one.
This continued for the next year, culminating into one climactic moment while I was out
(24:54):
on my delivery route.
It was a beautiful coastal California day.
I was about halfway through my workday when I started experiencing mild discomfort in
my chest.
This wasn't too alarming in of itself.
It should have been, but it wasn't.
It was a little different from the normal chest pain, still familiar enough.
It wasn't until I was hit with what felt like a semi-outer body experience that I became
(25:17):
more concerned.
This next part is hard to describe.
It was like someone had a supernatural weapon that knocked my soul out of my body, but it
was only partially effective.
I was in control of my body, just in a different way than normal.
It was almost like I was sitting behind myself controlling my movements like a puppet master
would their puppet.
It felt foreign to move my body.
(25:38):
What would normally be unconscious movements, like adjusting the speed of the vehicle or
subtle movements in the steering wheel, were now all directives I had to give to my body
in order to perform the function.
Nothing was automatic.
My strength and my reflexes were still present.
I could still move my arms fast and grip the steering wheel with the strength of a kung-fu master.
I imagine if anyone was looking in the vehicle as I was experiencing this episode, they would
(26:01):
think I was using karate chops to defend myself from a devious fly.
My arms were flailing about like I was one of those inflatable mascots you see outside
of car dealerships.
This is just what it looked like as I was checking in with my body while trying to figure
out the sensation that has come over me.
I considered pulling over a few times.
Ultimately, I decided I was with it enough to continue driving to my next destination
(26:24):
which was about 15 minutes away.
By the time I arrived in the next city, I was feeling somewhat normal.
The chest and puppet master sensation had subsided.
I had a little time before I needed to deliver my next package.
I wanted to get out of the delivery van and walk around.
I was curious if the sensation would come back when I changed positions from sitting
to standing.
(26:44):
After I pulled over in a dirt lot, it just so happened that an ambulance pulled in after
me in the same lot.
One of the crews needed to change his work uniform and he felt that the dirt lot with
a voyeur delivery driver was a good spot.
I sat there for a minute thinking a few things.
Was that novel sensation I felt earlier progression of whatever health issue I've been having
for the past year?
What was that paramedic's workout routine?
(27:06):
He looks great.
And more pressing, what are the odds that an ambulance would pull up to the dirt lot
of where I just so happened to pull over to?
The city where I was had a population of only a few thousand.
It wasn't like ambulances were stationed everywhere.
This is God throwing a lifeline to me.
It had to be.
I built up the courage and walked over to them.
(27:26):
Told them I was feeling weird and asked them to hook me up to their heart monitoring machine.
They agreed.
I stepped into the ambulance and they stepped into action.
They began asking me about my health history while running a few diagnostic tests on me.
It was surreal.
Not too long ago, I was the person in the ambulance getting a patient's history and
baseline vitals.
Now I'm the patient.
(27:48):
At one point during the process, the paramedic asked if he can go from a 3 lead EKG to a
12 lead EKG.
I tell him yeah.
A lead is a patch with a wire coming out of it that connects from the patient to a heart
monitor.
It measures the electrical impulses sent out from your heart.
If you've ever seen a show or movie where someone is in the hospital, you have seen
an EKG lead.
Going from a 3 to 12 lead will give the paramedics a better picture of the electrical activity
(28:12):
going on in my heart.
Shortly after adding the extra leads, the paramedic giving the EKG shows his coworker
the results.
He asked if I have a history of heart issues.
I reply that I do not, which is sort of true.
I don't have any official history of heart issues.
He then goes on to say that they cannot rule out that I am indeed having a heart attack,
which his paramedics speak for.
(28:33):
We think you're having a heart attack, but for liability reasons, we can't officially
diagnose you.
I ask, are you sure?
And he says, the electrical signals that we are seeing given off by your heart makes
it likely, but not absolute.
He shows me the results, but I don't know how to read an EKG.
We go back and forth from them wanting to transport me to the hospital to me saying,
but yeah, am I really having a heart attack?
(28:57):
At this point, I was still physically feeling better from the episode that I had earlier.
Mentally, a little touch and go.
There were some lingering intangible sensations left, but overall, somewhat normal.
This was the chief reason I was skeptical of the paramedic's unofficial, official diagnosis
that I was having a heart attack.
I had some medical training.
(29:17):
I knew what the classic signs of a heart attack looked like.
Pale, clammy skin, rapid heartbeat, radiating pain coming from the chest.
Those weren't my symptoms.
If I was having a heart attack, would my symptoms present the way that they did and then subside?
I didn't have cell phone service where I was, so I asked the paramedic if I could borrow
his phone to call my wife.
(29:37):
True to the stereotype of millennials not picking up phone numbers they don't recognize,
she didn't pick up when she saw the unknown number.
I left a message and continued going back and forth with the paramedic if I should go
to the hospital.
I relent and say, sure, take me to the hospital.
At that this time, I call my boss, tell her that I may be having a heart attack and cannot
complete my deliveries for the day.
(29:58):
She is appropriately concerned about the news but says don't worry about the deliveries,
she'll figure something out and hopes everything is okay.
In the back of her mind, I know she's thinking, I'm going to randomly drug test this dude.
One paramedic calls into the dispatch letting them know that they have a patient and are
about to be inbound to the hospital.
As he did that, the other receives a call from my wife.
(30:19):
I talk to her, she is a little alarmed but I do my best to let her know the situation
in that I feel fine for someone potentially experiencing a heart attack.
Through reassuring her, I reassure, delude, whatever you want to call it, myself, that
I wasn't having a heart attack.
My wife and I work out a plan that she would take me to the hospital instead of the ambulance.
I throw down my UNO reverse card and stick to my original decision that I was feeling
(30:42):
unlucky and would gamble that they were wrong.
I decline the hospital ride, signed a waiver that said I understand the paramedic's recommendation
to go to the hospital and that if I should die, the paramedic company would not be held
liable.
It was really shaping up to be an exciting day for me.
Before they leave, they say if I change my mind, call 911 and they will take me to the
hospital.
They recommend that I don't drive anymore in case I succumb to the heart attack.
(31:05):
That way if I were to pass out behind the wheel, I don't take anyone out with me. Sound advice.
I tell them I won't.
They close their ambulance doors and ride off into the sunset.
Sunrise?
I don't know.
It was the afternoon.
Either way, I was alone now.
I left out some key information up to this point.
The closest hospital was about 40 minutes from where I was.
(31:26):
My wife was on her way but had to travel about an hour to get to me.
She would be coming from the general direction of where the hospital was.
Once she arrives, then she would have to drive back in the direction that she came from.
Best case scenario, I was an hour and 40 minutes from the closest emergency room.
This is where the mind f-bomb happens.
I had medical professionals who had real-time, objective health information about me recommend
(31:51):
that they take me to the hospital.
Instead, I declined.
I sent them on their way so that I could be left alone in a dirt lot because I didn't
want to pay for an ambulance ride.
If I do have another heart episode, will I even have the wherewithal to call 911 to ask
for help?
Oh yeah, except I don't have cell reception where I am.
I am overcome with regret and impending doom.
(32:12):
All I could do was distract my mind as best as I could.
I made my bed.
It was time to lie in it.
I was just hoping it wasn't my deathbed.
Needless to say, it was a long hour waiting for my wife to arrive and an even longer drive
to the hospital.
Fast forward to the hospital.
They do all the tests.
The doctor comes back with the results and says, actually, we went a little too far.
(32:34):
Rewind a little bit.
I remember lying in the hospital bed having the nurse give me an EKG.
This was the same test the paramedics used to come to the conclusion that I may be having
a heart attack.
As she was looking at the results and I know she knows how to read an EKG, she knows the
results, I'm asking her if I had a heart attack.
Turns out she's the world's best secret keeper.
(32:56):
I'm desperate to know.
If someone was offering me the winning lottery ticket to a billion dollar jackpot, billion
with a B as in a billion or knowledge if I had a heart attack or not, I'm picking the
lottery.
I'm dying, not dead.
Are you crazy?
Give me that money.
Build me a pyramid and bury me with the rest.
That hypothetical being a hypothetical, I look back at the nurse.
(33:19):
Am I dying or what?
Give me something.
If you can't tell me, then give me a wink.
Sign it to me.
Flag signals, smoke signals, Morse code.
I don't know it, but I can learn. Anything!
Give me something.
Nope.
Nothing.
I have a strong hunch she has made a lot of money playing poker.
In her defense, the same way a paramedic isn't allowed to make a diagnosis, neither is the
(33:43):
nurse.
Although, I really would have appreciated the breach in protocol.
The doctor came in shortly after and said everything came back good.
The chest pain was probably caused by reflux and the weird sensation that I thought was
a spirit world concussion grenade was nothing more than vertigo.
Okay, but what about my heart?
The paramedic said that my heart rhythm was crazy.
(34:04):
Not like my heart was really good at the drums, but the actual electrical signal telling my
heart to beat was crazy.
He said, those goofy bastards, his words, not mine, they overdramatize occasionally.
The doctor agreed that I do have an irregular heartbeat, but he said it's irregularly regular.
For example, a mole on your skin.
It is irregular to have a mole on your skin, but it's commonplace to have a mole on your
(34:26):
skin.
Right?
He says.
Right. Then I say whats that behind you?
Then I grab the clean bill of health he just gave me and run out the hospital door before
he can change his mind.
Mission successful.
Turns out, I'm not dying today.
After the hospital, I did what you should never do when you're having unknown health
issues and I googled my symptoms.
This is probably the only time in history where what Google diagnosed me with was less
(34:50):
severe than what I thought I had.
My symptoms all fit in quite nicely to what can be described as a panic or anxiety attack.
I felt confident that this was the unknown ailment that I have been doing battle with
for the past year.
I was especially emboldened after I saw that panic attacks can mirror symptoms of a heart
attack.
B-I-N-G-O.
Bingo.
(35:11):
That's all I needed to read, especially after getting the thumbs up from the doc that my
ticker was healthy.
If you've never experienced a panic attack, you're a lucky duck.
I imagine everything I'm saying to you is as foreign a concept as it was to me before
I started experiencing them.
The person is just being dramatic.
Calm down.
Relax already.
(35:31):
I wish you could rationalize your way out of it.
Unfortunately, your prefrontal cortex goes on strike and hands over the control panel
to your hypothalamus and amygdala.
There is no logic to be found.
The best succinct explanation of a panic attack I heard was it was like having a broken Spidey
sense.
From those of you that don't know Spider-Man from the Marvel comics, he is a superhero
(35:52):
who has an ability where he can sense incoming danger before it happens.
It's like he can perceive the malice of an intent before anything has materialized.
It's called his Spidey sense.
With a panic attack, you feel danger is all around you, but there is no danger.
Your fight-or-flight, sympathetic-parasympathetic nervous systems are going haywire, yet there
(36:13):
is nothing to fight nor flee from.
Now, I'm not a doctor and I don't play one on this podcast either, so take this next
bit of information through that lens.
First and foremost, if you're ever experiencing anything resembling what I, your favorite
described earlier, don't wait.
Go seek out the advice of a medical professional.
Any medical debt incurred is worth the peace of mind.
(36:34):
Second, it doesn't take too many of these panic episodes until I've said, okay, I've
lived my life with panic attacks and without.
I think I'd like to go back to living my life without them.
I'm not against medication.
If I have a headache, I'll take an Excedrin.
If I have a tummy ache, I'll take a Tums.
Yet I wasn't keen on the idea of having to take medication for anxiety for the foreseeable
(36:55):
future or perhaps even the rest of my life.
If that's what I ended up having to do, I would, but I wanted to explore other avenues
first.
I tried looking objectively at what was happening with my body during a panic attack.
I came to the conclusion that essentially, again, not a doctor, just your favorite podcast
host, that my fight or flight switch was stuck toggled on.
(37:16):
This was letting loose a cocktail of hormones that left me feeling everything I've already
discussed earlier.
I extrapolated that it was an energy in, energy out equation imbalance.
I had too much coming in and not enough going out.
I'll yield that this is a reductionist perspective.
I still decided that a good place to start to combat the surge of energy that was coming
from my sympathetic nervous system activating for no reason was to start exercising again.
(37:41):
My panic attacks happened mostly in the morning or nights.
I decided my best course of action would be to work out in the mornings in order to deplete
any extra energy.
There were some days where I was having a panic attack and all I could do was sit on
the stationary bike, maybe doing 10 revolutions a minute.
Yet, I would always feel better after I left the gym.
Maybe not 100% over the episode, but markedly better than when I entered the gym.
(38:05):
I never had such a good accountability partner for the gym as an impending panic attack.
Always lurking at the fringes of my psyche, waiting for me to slip up so it could come
on home and rough me up.
As time passed, the anxiety disappeared and what stayed was the lesson.
My body was sick of my shit.
I have the energy, whether it's mental or physical.
It needs an outlet.
(38:26):
If I choose to do nothing, then my will is going to get circumvented and anxiety will
take the reins.
This whole part of my life I'm recounting didn't have to look the way it did.
As I'm living out my life, there are a lot of people living out theirs.
Over 8 billion and counting.
Of those, there is a lot of inspiration to draw from.
A lot of paths I can follow to possibly get the results that I'm looking for as it comes
(38:47):
to finding satisfaction in life.
It turns out, I'm one of those people that has to touch the hot stove multiple times
to learn my lesson.
I didn't have to keep pushing down my desires until my ambition was trying to kill me via
making my heart explode.
I could have chosen forward progress.
I should have let myself make mistakes and figured it out as I went.
Still, I used these experiences not only as an accountability partner to start participating
(39:11):
in more activity in my life, but as a catalyst for restarting my podcast ambition.
I wasn't going back to learning the art of conversation podcast, but I did have a new
podcast idea that I was excited to look into and unleash upon the world.
That's where I'll leave it for this episode of Revelizations.
I know these episodes have been heavy, especially this one.
I appreciate you tuning in.
(39:31):
After this, it will get lighter.
The following episodes will be more about me exploring different ideas for a podcast
and perhaps even getting some interviews.
See you next time.
Thanks for listening.
(40:10):
Huh?
Is this thing on?
Damn kids and their technology.
I thought I aged out at getting to see what shenanigans the neighbors were getting into.
Boy, was I wrong.
I've been using binoculars for five years now.
(40:32):
Nothing beats the ease and zooming properties of binoculars.
Nothing beats the ease and zooming properties of binoculars.
Oh, did I say that already?
Who are you?
Right, my testimonial.
Now where was I?
A new neighbor moved in and they were always up to something.
Now with binoculars, no more embarrassing moments of thinking my neighbor is having
(40:56):
a barbecue, bringing over some steaks when he is actually having a swinger's party,
and the guest brought enough hot dogs to feed everyone.
With binoculars, I know before I even leave my house if I need to bring over a tasty
snack or if this speedo-wearing tasty snack is all that's necessary.
Here's looking at you, binoculars.
(41:18):
Binoculars, when you want to be nosy without anyone noticing.
Available exclusively at your local peeping store.
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