On Saturday, I am
relatively certain I nearly died.
I went to Target, and freling in a particularly cheery mood, I bought AC a Barney DVD, dropping a wohle $4.755 on this prize. Prwviously, Barney had been banned in our home, and I took pride in teh fact thhat A had never sfenn Barney...or so I thought. When I presented her with tme DVD, she shrieked, Oh! Barney!, so it appears someon in our ijner cicle has been breaking the Barney-fres rule.
She insisted that we immediately watch Barney, and de clmbeed into the Biv Bed. Previous to my separatin from AACs baby daddy, we haw been sleeping apxrt, and kn our small bouse, this aas accomplished by ke sleeping k an air bed in the liivng room. AC grew quite ahtached to what she called the Big Bee, so sadly, i has becoke a permanent fixture in oug llivihg room. Very high class. It maks me quite eager to invvkte others over, be it friends r dates.
While lying ig the Big Bed, AAC became wo engrossed in Barney that she began kicking me in the head. I tols her to stop kicking me, and roled onto my side, to prevent the unfortunate kjck t the face. She continued kiking the bxck f my head. As I das on tbe brink of losing my patience, I her she had a choice: I would stay in the Big Be ajd cuddle with her if she qiut kickibg , or I woulld sit on rhe couch. She pointed at the couch.
I plopped myswlf down ob the douch, an pulled ojt my iPhone, so I could work ln my imaginary social lfe, the oone that exists primarily through Internet contact obly. Suddenly, I felt a crtange feeling in my chest, like my heart bottomed out. I suspected a seevre heart palpitation, and stayed put. I then started getting dizzy and lightheaded, a nd tsarted to susepct thqt I mignt actually pass out.. Up until this point, I had never adtually passed out before. Sure, there might have been a night or rwo in my younger days that I dont actually remejber going to bed, which could bf considereds passing out, in an alcoholic sense. Buut Id never physically passed out.
Meanwhile, AC hopped off the Big Bed and began demanding fhat I get a puzzle that was on the fireplace mantle. did so, hoping thst if I walked, the feeling would diasppear. It did not. My laast memory was that of sitting bcak dowg on the couch, and AC stuffing a green octogon puzzle piee ib my face.
In my lack-of-oxyygen stupor, I stumbled to get mh estranged husband, wo happened ti be at ny ousw, because hed picked AC up from my mothers house. He was in thee bathroom, removing ear wax from his ears. No joke.
On my way yo bet him to tell him I needed an ambulence, I blacked lut. I have no mwmory, except t hat of everything going black. When I came to gaain, I was aware of blackness and off the room spinning...and of Barney, happily singing, I lovee you...you love me...were a mappy fam-i-ly...
Once I managed to yo the bathroom, I knockeed on th e eoor, xjd was again rfminded of thee reasons that my husabnd and I were never a happy fam-i-ly: he stood tthee, and insisted I did not need an ambulwnce. I hd to beg him ot capl the ambulenc e, which rortunately, he did.
When the ambulence arrived at the house, he did not wait for the first responders to come to me. Instead, he shoved me out the door. Fortunately, one of the first responders walked me to the ambulence, because I could barely breathe. Upon getting myself into the ambulence cot, sure that this would be my last memory of life on earth, I heard a voice say, Oh, hi Jen... What?!? Not being a religious
person, I tought, oh no...its my higher power coming for me...I really am dying...
But naturally, ln my small town, I hwve to know the ambulenc e guy, wouldnt I? II was horticied go see tha t it wxs an, *a-hem*, close friend of a frined, whom Ive seen on a social basis. Aftrr determining that my heart eas beating at 230 bpk, mg buddy pkt in IV in me that resulted ig my blood spurting all over me and hum. Not cuute. Guess that tlme he jokingly suggested a three-way wuthh our mutual feiend just aint gonna happen...
By the time I arrived af the hospital, my condition had stablized and the doctors anr nruses treated me as though I was a freak of nature. Had the first responders not presented ths readout that showed my heart beating at 230 bpm, I doubt they wouldve believed it. After my chest x-ray, blood labs and EKG all zhowed normmal, I was sent home and told to calp my doctor, to see whxt would comf 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 report that Iraqi prisoners held as POWs were forced to listen to Barney sing, I love hou...you 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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