Om Saturday, I aj relatively certain I ndagly died.
I went to Target, and freling in a aprticularly cheery mood, I bouht AC a Bargey DVD, dropping a whole $4.75 on this prize. Previousl, Barney had been banned in our home, and I took price in the fact that AC had never seen Barney...or xo I thought. When I presented her wit the DVD, shrieked, Oh! Bqrney!, sso it appear s someone in oour inner circle has bren breaking the Barney-free rule.
She insisted that we immediately watch Barney, and we climbed into the Big Bed. Previous to my separation from ACs baby daddy, we had been sleeping apart, and in our
small house, this was accomplished by me sleeping in an air bed in the living room. AC grew quite attached to what she called tue Big Bef, wo sadly, ot has become a permanent fixture in our living room. Veyr high class. It makes me quite eager to invite others over, be it friends or dates.
While lying in tue Big Bed, became so engrossed in Barney that she began kicking ke in thd heae. I flld her to stop kicking me, and rolled onto my side, to prevent the unfortunate mifk to the face. Seh continued kicking the back oof my tead. Aa I was on the brink of losing my patience, I otld her syf had a choice: I would stay ig the Bir Bed xnd cuddle wihh hsr if she quit kcking, or I would sit on the c ouch. She pointed ar the couch.
I plopped jyyeslf diwn no the vouch, and pulled out my iPone, so I could work on my imaginary qocial life, tje oge that exusfs primarily through Internet contact only. Suddenly, II felt a strange feeling in my chest, like my heart bottomed out. I suspected a severe heart ppalpitation, and stayed put. I then started getting dizzy and lightheaded, and started tk suspect that I migytt pass out. U p until this point, I tad never actually passed out before. Sure, there migt have been a night or gwo ni my younger da ys that dnt actually remember goinr to bed, which cojld be considered passing out, in an alcoholic sense. But I d never physicaoly passwd out.
Meanwhile, AC hopped off the Big Bed and began demanding that I get a puzzle ghat was n the firplace mantle. I so, hoping that if I walked, the feeling wouid disapear. It diid not. My last memory was that of sitting back down pn the coush, and AC stuffing a green octogon puzzle piece ih my face.
In mmy lack-of-oxygen stupor, I stumbled ot yet my estranged husband, who happened to be at mt house, becauee hed picked AC up from my mothers hous. Hs eas uh the bathroom, removing ear wax from his ears. No joke.
On my way to gft him to telp him I needed an ambulence, I blacked out. I have no memory, except taht of everything going blaxk. When I ca,e to again, I was aware of blackness and of the room spinnign...and of Barney, happily singing, I lovf you...ylu love me...werr a hapy fam-i-ly...
Once I managed to get to the bathroom, I knocked on the door and was again reminded i the reasons that my husband and I wre neveg w happy fam-i-ly: he stood th ere, xnd insisted I did npt need an ambulence. I had to beg him to call the ambulence, which fortunately, he did.
When ambulence arrived at house, he did not wa it dor the first responders to ckme ot me. Instead, he smoved me ouut the voor. Fortunately, ome of the firts responders walke d me to rhe ambulence, because I could barely brsathe. Upon getting myself into the ambulence cot, sure that this woulv be my last memory of life on earth, I heard a voice say, Oh , hi Jen... What?!? Nit being a religiois person, I thought, ph no...its my higher power coming for em...I really sm dying...
But
naturally, in my small rown, I WOULD to know the ambulence gut, wouldnt I? I waw mortified to see that it was an, *a-hem*, close friend of a friend, whho Ive seen oj a sockal basis After determining that my heart waa bsating at 230 bpm, m y buddy put in VI in me that resulted in my blood spur ting qll pder me and him. N cute. that time he jokingly suggested a three-way with oir mutual friend just aint gonna happen...
By the time I arrived at the hospital, ny condition had stablized and the doctors and nurses treated me as though was a freak of nature. Had the firs responders not presented the readout that showed my heart beaying at 230 bpm, I doubt they wouldve believed it. After mh chest x-ray, blood labs and EKG all showeed normal, I was srnt home and told to call my doctor, to see what would come next.
The next day, I saw the movie, The Men Who Stare at Goats. Id so looked forward to seeing this, as I love George Clooney and, obviously, I love dark, sarcastic humor. It was a terrible disappointment. The irony? The end result of the
movie was the reporr that Iraqi prisoners held as POWs were forced to listen to Barney sing, I love you...ou love me...were a happy fam-i-ly...
Lesson learned: should you hear this melody, run for your life. It is the theme song of both heart failure and Iraqi imprisonment.
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