Black-out

I have low blood sugar: hypoglycemia. I found out after having some strange episodes when I was a senior in high school. One time, I got so dizzy and disoriented that I couldn't speak. I couldn't recall facts that I know, like my parents' names or my telephone number. I knew them, but they wouldn't rise to the surface. It was almost like a walking coma.

If I eat right, the problem is non-existent. Seems like that should be a no-brainer then. No sugar for the rest of my life. No problem. No alcohol. No bread. No pasta. No way. So for me, however wrong it may be, the name of the game is balance. And by balance, I don't really mean moderation. I mean counteraction. I try not to tip the scales. If I'm going to drink alcohol, I make sure to eat a substantial meal with plenty of protein. If I feel a little funny, I go eat some peanut butter crackers or something. I try to listen to subtle cues my body gives me. I usually have about 15 minutes' warning, starting with irritability. This one is hard to pick up on because what ever stimulus may actually be really irritating. Or is it? Then there is mild confusion or disorientation. Nausea. Still not worse than having NO sugar, etc for the rest of my life. I realize that this is a serious condition and that I should be more serious about abstaining from these sugary pleasures of mine.

I should keep more handy in mind the time that my body convinced me of that seriousness:

It was while I was in college. I was waiting for my boyfriend, Rodney, to get off work so we could eat together. I was starving. Just a little longer, I thought. He finally got off, and we were headed for food when he decided to take a detour. "Let's go by Hastings real quick first," he said. There was some CD he really wanted that was released today.
"I'm so hungry. I think I might have an attack," I whined. Maybe he thought I was just being dramatic. This was one of those things I said a lot.
    "It will just take a second. I swear."

We went inside Hastings and looked around for a minute, and I started feeling a warm sensation in my face. So I went to the bathroom and could barely open the door. It's always heavy, but I almost couldn't open it this time. I walked to the sink and turned the knob. My hand felt tingly and a strange heat wave shot up my arm. I was starting to freak out. I splashed the water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked very pale. I was getting dizzy. Blackness started to creep into the corners of my vision. My heart started beating faster. I went out to find Rodney in somewhat of a panic.

"We have to leave now," I told him, and he could see that I meant it.

We quickly walked outside to the parking lot. He had his arm around me, trying to support me as we walked. I remember him saying, "We're almost there. We're going to make it."

But we didn't.

The next thing I knew I was waking up from a little nap that I had apparently decided to take on a bench just outside of Hastings. Before I could open my eyes, I heard far off voices as if I were dreaming:

"Is she ok?"
"I don't know..."
"Somebody call an ambulance..."

I woke up to see a young black man sitting by my side.
"Where's Rodney?"
"You mean that white boy?"
"Yes."
"He went inside."

???

He...left me out here? With all these people? There were people standing all around, starting to disperse now that the show was over. I turned to look inside the window to see if I could see him and all of a sudden, another man approached me. He was an older white man and he was smiling. Why is he smiling at me right now? I think he was trying to say something to me... What is he saying??? Maybe I am still too foggy to understand. No, I was almost certain that he was speaking jibberish on purpose. He started getting closer and reached out to touch my arm. This man is trying to kidnap me. He's trying to confuse me even more, so he can snatch me and throw me into some creepy van.
"Sir, get away from me. You are scaring me," I said plainly.

He began explaining that he was a minister of a church, even started to present some sort of paper as evidence of the fact. This is when Rodney finally came out with beef jerky.

I felt safe again when I saw him and a little guilty for suspecting evil in a man of God while he was praying for me.

I do still wonder what good beef jerky would have done if I was unconscious. I guess he panicked and didn't know what to do. For the rest of the night, he kept staring at me like I was the walking dead.

He explained that when I fainted, he had called out for help. And the man who had been sitting at my side, guarding me while I was unconscious, had helped him carry me from the parking lot to the bench.

I wish I had said thank you.

After this event, I swore I would never eat sugar or wait too long to eat again. I got a medical bracelet and carried sugar pills in case I ever passed out among strangers again. I was on top of it for the longest time....

I thought that night would be enough to set me straight for the rest of my life.

The Big Boom

It was late in the evening way back in 2004. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was visiting my friend who had come home for a visit from her military home. We were talking and laughing and enjoying each other's company as usual. Humor and silliness are big trademark themes in her family, and it's a joy to be around. My friend had only two daughters at the time, one of which was only a few months old. I remember thinking how easy my friend made it look to be a mother of two. I really admired her for being such a good mother at such a young age and living so far from her family and support system, and with her husband overseas. I couldn't imagine. I found the idea of motherhood somewhat alien and frightening. There were several other children in the house as well, and my friend was standing the baby up on the kitchen table, making her dance and--BOOOOOOOM!!!!! The loudest boom I have ever heard hit the house. Yes, it seemed that something huge had just hit the house. The chair I was sitting in jumped, was almost knocked out from under me. The windows busted out, or rather they busted in. The chandelier was thrown like a wind chime in a violent storm and pieces broke off onto the floor. Part of the ceiling fell in. My friend was amazing. While I quickly hid under the table, she got the baby and the other children under the table, too. My mind was dumbfounded. Even then, I felt ashamed that my first instinct was not to save the children. My first thought was, "This is a drive-by shooting," as if I would know what that was like. My second thought was, "Someone threw an explosive device at our house....like a grenade? Why would someone throw a grenade at our front door??" Those possibilities came into my mind like flashes of lightening. It's a little funny to me now how quickly my mind jumped to false conclusions of the mysterious BOOM. There was a deafening silence and stillness that followed before everyone snapped into survival mode. We weren't sure what was on the other side of that door, but on this side, we were counting heads. When every one was accounted for, my friend asked me to get the baby dressed while she tended to her other child. How can she be so calm and clear-headed? I guess it helps to have military training when disaster strikes. I tried to remain calm, but my arms were shaking wildly as I awkwardly dressed a baby for the first time in my life as quickly as possible.

Just as I became aware of the loud, high-pitched ringing in my ears, all of our phones started ringing one after another. I didn't have any answers for my loved ones, but assured them that I was okay. Eventually, we were told that a local scrap metal plant, Yaffee Iron and Metals, had exploded about a block from the house. Someone knocked at our door and told us to evacuate the area but to be prepared for additional blasts. I can't remember if there were additional blasts, but I don't think there were--none like the first one anyway. Funny how the brain seems to reduce its functioning to only essential processing in times of crisis.  Reports said 3 people were killed and 14 were injured. There were multiple fires in the neighborhood, damage to many houses and a local strip mall not far away. My husband (boyfriend at the time) told me that there was an eerie green light in the sky right before the bright flash and blast, unlike anything he had ever seen. My parents who live about 10 miles away said they felt it and thought something had hit their roof. It was reportedly felt and heard for at least 30 miles.

That is the closest I have ever come to a disaster. The incident shook me emotionally for years. Sometimes a loud sound, like fireworks, a gun shot, or a loud thunder clap, would trigger a physical response. My body seemed to lock up and I could clearly see and hear in my mind the chandelier swinging from the ceiling. I could hear the baby crying, and I could feel the hard floor on my knees. Even though I was not hurt and didn't even see any one hurt, the terror and jolt to my senses stayed with me for at least 2 or 3 years after. Now, 8 years later, I am fully recovered of course, and have nothing but tremendous respect for all of those who have suffered more severe traumas and survived much greater horrors than this.