I've had another very rough week. This time I've been sick. Some kind of stomach virus. On Tuesday morning I had an episode of the inevitable events that go with stomach virus that was so violent and lasted so long that my blood pressure shot through the roof. I had pain down my left arm, my hands went numb, my face went numb, I didn't pass out, but became so dizzy and disoriented that I'm not sure how I stayed conscious. I thought I was having a heart attack.
My only coherent thought at the time was that I needed help getting the boys to school. So I called my friend Tina. Tina came and her son Ben followed to help with the boys. By the time they got here, the worse of my symptoms were subsiding and I was starting to think that I just might survive this deal after all. I lay down, we talked about it, and decided that there wasn't any point in going to the ER because what would they see? A woman with a stomach virus.
It finally occurred to me that taking my blood pressure would be a good thing. I have an electric blood pressure cuff, so we dug it out and made use of it. By that point almost 2 hours had passed since my little event and my blood pressure was still well into the red zone. I stayed in my lying dwn with feet propped up position and 30 minutes later we took it again. Both numbers had dropped by at least ten points so that confirmed my feeling that I was recovering.
Ben stayed to babysit me until noon at which point my blood pressure was high normal and I was feeling bad for wasting his day.
There are other interesting things that have happened during my illness. My sns made dinner on Tuesday night. It was spaghetti sauce from a jar with frozen meatballs. You'd have thought it was Top Chef from all the discussion required. We've gotten a lot of support over the past three days from friends and church members. It's been pretty amazing actually. For the first time in a very long time, I'm in a place and have made the kind of connections that mean that we are not alone. I'm not very good at asking for help, but I know beyond a shadow of doubt that if I needed it there are multiple people I can call at any time of the day or night and they would be here helping.
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When I think of the classic hero, the image in my mind is of the man who runs into the burning building to save a life. A few days ago, my cousin did just that. He was on his way home from work and saw a house on fire with an elderly woman crying in the front yard. Although she had made it out, her wheelchair bound husband had not. He was trapped in the back of the house.
Rescue workers said that they couldn't find a way through the fence to reach the back of the house and that it was too far gone anyway, there was nothing they could do.
My cousin, Jeff, said, "I will make a way through that fence, you just follow me." And he did. He made it through the fence and went into the back of the house.
Bystanders reported that after they lost sight of him, they heard a number of explosions, most probably from oxygen tanks and live ammuniton that was stored in the house. They thought that Jeff was lost.
Then, he reappeared carrying the man.
At that point the rescue workers raced to help him.
The man had burns on the bottoms of his feet, and Jeff's back was blistered from the heat. But everyone survived.
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