My long standing suspicions have been confirmed. If I ever have a heart attack, stroke, seizure, or other life threatening fit during the night, I will die grasping at air while my husband slumbers on peacefully. How do I know? Read on.
I went up to bed the other night at 9:00 and left David downstairs sleeping on the couch. We weren't having a fight or anything. Sometimes he falls asleep on the couch around 7:00 and doesn't wake up to come to bed until 11:00. That night around 10:00 I am jolted awake by what I thought was a voodoo priest thrashing about and screaming dark incantations. I heard all these deep, guttural, keening/revving sounds and the sound of our blinds hitting the window. Upon a second listen, I was surprised to find that it sounded like the voodoo priest was trying to sacrifice one of our cats.
Sensing that one of our cats was in trouble, I ran downstairs only to find Scout trashing and wailing because her paw was stuck in our blinds. No voodoo priest. Nonetheless, the sounds she made were unholy. David, less than five feet away at the time, was sawing mahogany. I ran over to Scout to get her loose. Oddly enough and despite my best intentions, rushing at a distressed animal and grabbing hold of it in no way reassures that animal that everything will be okay. So Scout lets out a murderous hiss and proceeds to scratch me with her three free paws. Somehow the movement of these paws opening my flesh set the trapped paw loose, and Scout ran off to lick her wounds. Glad I could help. Now I'm disoriented and bleeding with lots of adrenalin pumping. David is STILL asleep. So in my calm, soothing voice that I reserve for emergencies, I screamed, " My God David!!! Didn't you hear that Scout was in trouble? I heard her from upstairs wailing and struggling with the blinds!" David, finally waking up, responds, "Huh? Oh, I thought I had a dream or something that one of the cats was playing with the blinds." No, in reality Scout was trapped in the blinds and in excruciating pain.
It's nice to know that if I do have a heart attack and am in my death throes David will at least have a pleasant dream about me doing a funny dance.
Now, I can't be too hard on the guy. I wouldn't expect him to expertly administer mouth to mouth resuscitation or anything. I know I probably couldn't do if I had to. The only thing I remember from my CPR lesson in health class is that I had to give CPR to the mannequin right after gross old Mrs. Matthis slobbered all over it as a demonstration. This was neither the first nor last time I cursed my last name for beginning with an 'A'. I had to go first for everything.
I digress. If I'm in trouble in the middle of the night, all I want is for someone to wake up and call 911. It'll probably have to be one of our kids. Either that or I need to get one of those Life Alert necklaces.