That One Time I Woke Up To A Roomful Of Firefighters





Scenes from a Sunday afternoon: 

I know, it looks kind of like a bodybag, but have no fear, I'm not dead. I DID get to ride on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, though, to the entertainment of the 237 parents and kids enjoying a sunny day in the park across the street from our house. (One kid watching through the gate: "She lost her leg!!")

Long story short: I walked into the bedpost and knocked the shit outta my shin. Like, childbirth-level pain. After swear-crying for a few minutes, I sat on the couch to ice it, snuggled my kid, and promptly lost consciousness. Woke up to my husband calling 911 and shortly thereafter a room full of firefighters and paramedics. Turns out it's totally normal (also known as: fainting) and I felt fine like 30 seconds after I came to. Vasovagal response. Your body's way of resetting after a shock or intense pain. Anyhoo, hubs and kid were CHAMPS, and after an unexpected morning at the ER, I'm chillin' with Brussels sprouts and a sore shin that will probably develop a mofo bruise and not much else, and feeling really damn grateful for health insurance, first responders, my family, yoga, deep breaths, and relatively amazing health. And extra curious about what was going on in that dark 20-second between-time when I was knocked out. When I "wasn't here." Where do we go? Does the soul just take a smoke break for a minute?

Thank you God for this surprising and beautiful and awe-some life. Thank you for the wake-up perspective-reset that a dumb little shin-bump brought. Thank you for the fabulous kind patient first responders with strong Bahhhston accents. Thank you for my beautiful boys who were just a little taken aback when their mama-wife passed out on the couch. Hashtag blessed.

*Edit: I wasn't going to share this. But Robb leaves for Brazil in a few minutes, and I realized I'd feel better flying solo with a 3-year-old for the next week, in a new city where I have no family, if I know my community is dialed in. Not that I'm going to faint again. But just in case you don't hear from me for awhile, call 911 and check on my kid, please. Takes a village, yo.

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