I'm now scared to death to live alone.

Before I begin my scary story, I should warn you. It may be TMI. I have no problem talking about it - please, my roommate is a nurse, talking about bodily functions stopped bothering me a LONG time ago. Unless I hear about poop or periods while I'm eating, I'm okay with just about any story.

That being said, it's actually not that bad in terms of the level of TMI.

Remember that episode of Sex and the City where Miranda throws out her back in the shower and has to wrangle herself to the phone, completely naked, and Carrie sends Aidan over to help her? No, that didn't happen. But after it happens, Miranda suddenly realizes that if she died in her apartment, they'd discover her body, half-eaten by her cat, weeks later - solely because the neighbors complained about the smell. I think this scenario could be entirely possible with me.

I left the house about an hour ago to go across the street to CVS. I have - here's the TMI - a Urinary Tract Infection. No, silly, it's not transmitted through shenanigans. They happen for all kinds of reasons. But at any rate, I hate taking antibiotics, and I avoid the doctor at all costs since Aetna tripled my co-pay. So I went in and talked to the pharmacist (they're as close as I usually get to the doctor) and told her that I wanted to avoid having to get an antibiotic, that I'm healthy and clean and think I could get rid of it via something natural or over the counter. She recommended an analgesic (pain reliever) plus an antibacterial ingredient, which I easily found. As she's ringing me up, she says "take two of these with a glass of water and if it doesn't work in 2 days, go to the doctor." I think I'm golden.

I walk back across the street to my house, opening the box as I'm walking. The pills are in my hand as I open the door, and I pop them while I'm walking upstairs.

Sound like a normal activity?

The pills are apparently the kind that INSTANTLY blow up in your throat. And I've just swallowed two. I start choking on them. Honest-to-god, no coughing, no air, just a feeling like someone's strangling me. Colonel Mustard goes bonkers. Barking like crazy. Great that he knows something is wrong, but unless the people I rescued him from taught him the heimlich maneuver, I'm SOL.

I am panicking. I literally thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head. Went to the railing and threw myself over, desperately trying to recall the lifeguard training that I dropped out of halfway through. I was too short for this railing, and only managed to bruise a rib or two. Finally, I looked over to the coffee table on the third-floor landing and saw a big jar candle from Yankee candle. I turned it upside-down, braced it on the arm of the sofa, and just tried to get it up from the gut like you see the Heimlich on TV.

Second try's a charm. Both pills, now resembling giant pieces of sponge, fly across the room at about 60 miles an hour.

Yes, you throw up when you choke. I barely made it to the bathroom. My face was red, my eyes were bloodshot, and my whole head was swollen.

The Colonel was still barking for about ten minutes until he realized I was okay, and now he won't let me go more than six inches from his stinky breath.

I'm fine now, but seriously, it scared the SHIT out of me. Really, what happens if I fall down the stairs? My roommate and I are rarely at home and awake at the same time - she works nights and is out of town right now. If she found me after I fell down the stairs, it could have been a matter of days...if I'm still alive, I've been laying there for days! The Colonel might have peed on me, like on that episode of Weeds!

I've always liked living alone. I like my Molly time. I was independent from a very early age, and I like doing whatever I want, whenever I want. I am getting to the age where I'm too old to have a roommate that's not my significant other, and everyone I would consider living with is either married, owning their own home, or in a place where I don't want to live. I'm probably going to end up living alone when this lease is up, regardless of where I go. But yes, I'm even more scared now that no one would even find me if I were to die in my house alone. My family and I talk on occasion, but not on an ongoing and consistent basis - my sister-in-law and brother even joke that she could murder him and no one would notice until he didn't respond to an email about Christmas.

Seriously, check on me every once in a while.

I have an agreement with a couple of my friends that should the worst happen and I get hit by a SEPTA bus, they are under orders to break into my house and clean out all the stuff I don't want my mom to see if she had to clean out my house. If you can't get ahold of me, call my cousin Kate and set the plan in motion.

I read the box and found out that yes, you have to drink a full glass of water with it. Stupid Molly.

And finally, yes, I am fine. Actually laughing about it. I won't go dying on you any time soon.