Life After Bootie

I awoke to what I thought was a distant siren only to realize that it was the ringing of my own ears. I was lying on the ground; facing up to the faint glimmer of the morning sky, the sun was rising like a big orange bald head that had been set ablaze. I was covered in insects which had been feasting upon my flesh as I lay upon the ground. I don’t know how I got here, my senses are numb. My chest was pounding, explosion after explosion the beat carried on, it was like listening to the finally of a fireworks show. My vision was beginning to clear as I noticed the beauty of the orange and purple clouds drifting by, now aglow with the coming of the new day. My head begins to clear, but I still don’t know how I got here or what has happened. The loud ringing in my ears continues. I try to get up, to get away from the stinging insects that have been devouring my flesh, I can’t seem to move. My chest feels like a thousand bricks are stacked upon me. My arms and legs hurt. I begin to feel the heat from the morning sun that is rising higher and higher in the sky, it’s chasing the darkness away to my west, locked in their endless chase for billions of years. I ponder who leads who in this symphony of dark shadowing the light, yet I feel as if I am all alone in my gazing of this continuing pursuit. I still hear no other sounds aside from the constant ringing with the heavy pounding from within my chest. I try to recall some glimpse of whatever it was I had been doing before I got here, but it’s of no use, all circuits are dead. My only perceptions are pain, light, heat and color. Every breath seems in vain to my well being, like a struggle at high altitudes, pointless and irritating. I feel no sense of well being in the calm of the morning light. A dark cloud looms over my head. Awareness of my situation is becoming clearer by the minute. I can move my right arm a little now; there is a sense of accomplishment not unlike feeling the first time you rode a bike without any help. I begin to take revenge on the insects that dare to continue using me as their morning feast. I do not dare to try and sit up. My heart is still pounding. I begin to recognize where it is that I have fallen, I am in my own backyard at the base of the steps leading to the yard. At that moment a strange question rushes through my mind: Who left the back yard lights on all night again?

The starlight in the west sky is beginning to wane; it’s loosing the battle with the new day’s sun. I try to imagine what each star might look like if I was up in the sky along with them, it would be a nice change of scenery from my present situation. I can feel my legs starting to move and I finally try to get up. My head is pounding along with the rhythm of my heart, thump thump. I begin to question my mortality thinking is this my time to go. I don’t like the way it sounds within my head. I tell myself this is all a dream, a fantasy from all the recent long nights without much sleep. I can live on a few hours a night for months on end before I need to crash for an entire weekend to catch up, yes I can sleep for 36 to 48 hours at a time when I get like that. After my two days in bed I usually have a migraine that no medication can relieve but it’s my own fault for not sleeping. Why do I stay up? I am not sure. Some times I feel I might be missing something, somewhere, that I can’t take a chance on not being able to do something about whatever that SOMETHING might be. It’s not a healthy I keep telling myself but it changes little about my position. I wonder if it has anything to do with what I’m experiencing at that moment.

I have delivered carnage to the masses of insects that were using me as sustenance. The ringing in my head has not stopped, the pounding rhythm continues inside my chest. The indications are all there but I am not paying attention to them, oblivious to my possible demise as if I ignore it long enough it will go away. I think I can sit up now, my right legs tendons are screaming in pain, did I fall, had I blacked out, did I suffer a hear attack, the existing metal flanged knee brace I’m wearing gives me no comfort. The answer eludes me. I struggle to sit up, each breath becomes more intense, I feel as if no oxygen is available for consumption. I gasp as if reaching the surface after a long deep dive. A memory flashes into my head. I recall when I almost drowned as a young teen. I was saved by my mother. I’ve never been back to that spring fed river in North Florida. It’s one of the ones were the water begins in the mountains of the Carolinas and flows underground for hundreds of miles only to emerge and forge a slow moving river. I notice the water is crystal clear, but it has a surprise. It was early summer and the middle of the day. I remember running down the hill and leaping into the river from the aged wooden dock. I hit the water with a large splash that any teen would be proud of when trying to soak their friends at the poolside. I gleefully shouted out a well embellished WHOOOOEEEY! That’s when the sheer shock of the intensely cold water instantaneously cramped every muscle of my being. I had no control as I began to sink. I began to panic as I screamed hoping that the outburst would be my savior. Involuntarily my entire day’s meal was regurgitated while I was trying to get a breath. I struggled to use my arms and legs, straining to gain access to the surface, there was no success, my efforts were as barren as the moon. It grew dark in the cold water. I don’t remember much after that point. I only remember the cold water stinging me like a million angry bees as I helplessly sank to the bottom of the river. I was told that I floated to the surface and over to a shallow area where my mother had run into the frigid water to grab me. She clutched at my motionless body as I drifted closer; I was floating in my own vomit. She dragged me the shore. There are conflicted stories on what followed but needless to say I made it back from the dark cold place I had been visiting for the past few minutes. I don’t think that I had died, just a loss of consciousness followed by asphyxiation. I’m sure some form of brain damage was incurred, possibly my lack of short term recollections. I don’t think I ever thanked her for saving me. A mother usually knows these things without having to be told, but perhaps I will tell her today, after all it’s mother’s day and it would make a nice present. That is what mother’s day is about isn’t it, thanking her for your life.

My awareness was growing by the minute. The ability to form complete thoughts and carry them out was approaching fast. I took the chance and tried to stand up. Not a smart thing to do. I quickly found myself on lying on the ground again. I remembered the old saying about learning to crawl before you can walk. I heeded that memory. I was able to make it over to the steps that led up to my back door. My knees were quite upset about the abuse from the concrete chips and rocks that lay about on the ground from all the construction and repairs I had been doing. Oh cartilage where art thou’. My recently damaged knee’s brace was actually doing some good, sheltering my knee cap from the sharp edges that stabbed and cut. There was no protection for the good knee. I thought to myself that perhaps now they will be equals once again, I laughed inside pushing the pain back. I made my way up the grey steps. My breathing was still laborious and painful. My ears were numbing to the ringing that had accompanied me since my awareness this morning. The door was in front of me. I tried the handle, it was unlocked. I felt that things were going my way now.

An unlocked door meant I was the culprit for my situation and not that someone in my house had put me here, burglar or whatever. Logic is still in my favor this morning it’s always been there for me. It built me into what I do best; I’m an emergency management type. I do my best when the shit hits the fan. When everyone else is running about like madmen I can control things better. I get my way without question. I don’t want everything all smooth and running, I don’t know what to do with myself. If it’s all running fine I get bored and don’t want to be around or participate. I run my own business, I don’t get called when things are good, I get the call when things are bad, even more so from other local pro’s in the same field, I get called in when they can’t figure it out or fix it themselves. But I do get lots of down time in-between the calls. The rate I charge makes up for it or so I keep telling myself. Sure I’m expensive but I’m worth it. I don’t fail at these things. Not once yet. I feel like Capt Kirk in the movies, he didn’t fail the Kobayashi Moru test; he beat it by changing the test. I feel that way about my work. I won’t fail my clients even if it means changing the circumstances.

This life of stress is starting to rear its ugly head today I tell myself. I open the door. Strange, no dogs to greet me. I close the door and half crawl and half walk my way to my chair at my desk which is only 10 feet away. I pull myself up into the seat. I’m tired, I’m hurting but I’m in MY chair and that makes me feel good. I can see the sun peering at me through the windows next to my desk. My big computer is on. It says I’ve been logged out of Second Life for inactivity and that I can retrieve any messages before it closes. There’s one from a lovely lady I was hanging with most of the night. She’s no longer online it says. It’s now after 6am. The house is quiet aside from the pounding from within my chest. I have a big bottle of aspirin and some water at the desk. I take two pills and swig it down with some of the water. I close my eyes, listening to my own body.

I awoke to the feeling of something cold on my leg. It’s the nose of one of my two dogs who has come to finally greet me. She’s a welcome site. The ringing in my ears is almost gone aside from the normal amount from playing in bands without hearing protection earlier in my life. I am feeling better and the affections of my four legged friend is helping my mood. My breathing has slowed down quite a bit and I don’t hurt as much. I don’t know how long I had slept in the chair, maybe an hour. My dog wants to go outside. It’s only 10 feet back to the door I say to myself. I was feeling better. I cautiously arose from my chair and staggered my way to the door. I opened it, I had not locked it when I came in. She gleefully ran down the steps. Then to my amazement she fell hitting the cement patio with a loud thud and an awful yelp. "Oh my god", I yelled, I looked at her to see if she was all right. She got up slowly and looked at me with her sad pain filled eyes. I wanted to cry. After the shock was over and she made her way to the yard to make her morning rounds I looked at the base of the steps. I found my and her doom maker. There as a sheet of plastic on the bottom step. It was clear and was stuck with some form of glue substance. I slowly made my way down the other steps and did my best at crouching down to pick it up. I wondered how the hell it got there. There was a big smeared foot print marked into the layers of plastic. I think I now understand my awakening. I looked around as if to see some hidden camera show filming me. There was nothing but the birds singing now. It was Sunday morning on mother’s day. Nobody was awake yet. I then turned to see where my dog was at. I noticed that the grill I had used the night before to cook the filet mignon was still sitting out on the patio next to the old one it had just replaced. I turned to my left to find my garbage cans were over on their sides. The bits and pieces of the box the new grill came in were all over the ground. The paper plates and leftover scraps of last nights dinner was scattered all over the patio area. Included with those scraps were other bits of plastic wrap that the large metal pieces of the new grill were covered in to protect them. I had become the victim of my own circumstance. I had been in such a rush to get the grill put together Saturday night I didn’t shred the boxes or put the plastics in the right garbage can. The local raccoon population had viciously attacked my garbage during the night and I along with my dog fell when hitting the last step that was enshrouded by a smooth piece of plastic wrap and covered in last nights rain. I at least was relieved in many ways from thinking that I had succumbed to a physical ailment like a heart attack. I suppose what I had done was to go out back to turn off the grill, I knew I had left it on all night to season the inside the way a cast iron skillet needs to be, the foot print in the plastic and the horror of watching my dog suffer the same fate were all the clues I needed

If anything this rotten adventure has shown me is that mortality is part of everyone’s life even if you don’t want to think about it. I may be hurting more today due to the fall, but I do appreciate the fact of life and being alive more than I ever have. I went to bed until 11am so a good 4 to 5 hours of rest was put on the ol’ sleep o’ meter. I went to my mothers later in the day for an early dinner and I told her thank you for bringing me into this world and giving me the love only a caring mother can give. Oh, btw, I did thank her for saving my life that day at the river. She was a little foggy about it, it was quite some time ago, she's getting to that age where things don’t recall as well as they used to, but she does remember saving me.