Out For A Short Count
John and I were sitting at the counter of our local greasy spoon when someone shouted, “Call 911.†I’d just wiped up some runny yellow with my wheat toast. Two girls to the left of us stood up, alarmed, but the commotion was occurring around the bend in the counter, to our right. I slid off my stool and thought, “Finally, someone to resuscitate, I haven’t done this in a long time.†A couple of steps and there she was, a girl of about sixteen flat on her back on the floor wedged between two stools, with her head at a funny right angle against the counter.
People were hollering the usual, “Give her air, be careful of her neck,†all against the silly drumbeat of call 911. Too much TV I thought.
The fallen girl looked like one of Matt’s friends with that blemishless skin that screamed sacrifice me now and the rains will come. That was my first clue that she was okay. Nonetheless, kneeling over her I had to do something so I felt her carotid artery. Then I knew for sure she okay, not because her pulse lub dubbed against my fingers, but because she opened her eyes and yelped. I fully understood the yelp. Had I been Matt she might’ve smiled.
This all brings me to another one of my pet peeves.
If you read our local newspaper’s police beat you’ll see things like, “Resident saw car parked outside neighbor’s house and called the police,†Suspicious looking man in black hat spotted on Arlington St, police called,†“Stray dog, police called.†As Matt is fond of saying, we didn’t call the police when our house caught fire. We called the fire department on their chat line after we put the fire out. Matt doesn’t want the police near him for any reason, and I don’t want to bother people.
The girl on the floor? The rescue squad arrived and she walked into the ambulance.
What, no picture?
Comment by rakkity — May 25, 2008 @ 12:34 pm
Point made, point taken, but what DID happen? Felt lightheaded, slid from stool … ? Other?
Comment by el Kib — May 26, 2008 @ 6:36 am
Mrs Rakkity conjectures that it was a “fainting spell”.
Comment by rakkity — May 26, 2008 @ 10:27 am
Has anyone fainted since the days when corsets used to squeeze the breath out of women onto those perfectly placed couches? I’ve never met anyone who has fainted. Maybe if we had more fainting couches it would be trendy again.
Comment by Jen — May 28, 2008 @ 6:51 am
How about soldiers at attention?
Comment by michael — May 28, 2008 @ 7:43 am
‘splain please Mikey.
Comment by Jen — June 2, 2008 @ 9:58 pm
rakkity fainted. Twice.
Once at a funeral about 40 years ago. Walked out of the church, headed for a stone bench. *Blackout* Woke up sitting there wondering what had happened.
Second time. Giving blood at a donation center about 20 years ago). No pain, no recalled reaction during the blood donation. Then *whamo*. Blackout. Next thing remembered was concerned people looking into my face while on the floor. (This experience has given me pause about giving blood, but it’s never happened again.)
Comment by rakkity — June 2, 2008 @ 11:12 pm
I’m guessing she fainted, as soldiers, or more typically I guess, those Buckingham Palace guards on hot days with knees locked.
I’ve gone down once and almost once. Getting prepped for surgery eight hours after i passed my hand through my table saw – no food no pain meds – the x-ray tech told me to raise my arms so she could take a chest film. Quick as a cat, she caught me before my head bounced off the floor. The almost time I lunged for a Frisbee tossed by friend Jim McMahon and bounced headfirst off a lamp post.
You could argue you left out a third time, rakkity, and that was your episode of Transient Global Amnesia. A different kind, but a “whamo” nevertheless. Mind if I post that story?
Comment by michael — June 3, 2008 @ 8:17 am
You’ve never met anyone who fainted, period; or you never met anyone who fainted without a good reason, like after having their finger-tips turned to gravel when they tried to catch a falling 12 ft long paralam beam?
Comment by jennifer — June 3, 2008 @ 5:20 pm
Sure, Mike. It should bring back old memories.
Comment by rakkity — June 4, 2008 @ 6:21 pm
Is paralam lumberese for the alternate universe I believe you inhabit?
Comment by michael — June 4, 2008 @ 8:49 pm
No, it’s lumberese for “freakin’ heavy; nobody but a total ijit would try and catch it if it started to twist out of their hands”.
Haven’t I told this story? We were trying to move the beam out of the way in the kitchen/living room right before I was supposed to get our 7-yr-old from gymnastics class. After I didn’t catch it, I washed my hand under cold water, sent hubby to get the gymnast, sat down on the bench at the kitchen table, told Hilary to be quiet … and then found myself staring up at the underside of the kitchen table with my leg twisted under me. Can you imagine being 5 years old, alone with your bleeding mom, having her tell you to be quiet, and then having her fall under the table?
Comment by jennifer — June 4, 2008 @ 10:44 pm
So, rakkity, HAS it brought back old memories or are the 7 hours still gone?
Comment by jennifer — June 4, 2008 @ 10:45 pm
I seem to be able to recall the first hour of the 7 now, but nothing else beyond that has emerged. I’d sure like to hear a tape of my conversations with the two brain docs who I found interviewing me when I “awoke”.
Comment by rakkity — June 5, 2008 @ 5:17 pm