All Shook Up
And not in a good way.
C woke up yesterday feeling a little under the weather, and as the day went on, his symptoms worsened. Our hotel room has a gigantic bathtub, so he took bath and felt a little bit better. The yucky feeling came back later on though, and so we decided to go sit in the hotel's hot tub. After a few minutes, he mentioned he wasn't feeling well and so we got out.
As we were exiting the pool area, he sort of stumbled and caught himself on the door. I asked him if everything was alright and he wouldn't answer. I kept insisting and then he said "I can't see anything" in French. And then he passed out and fell on the floor. Have you ever seen a 6'4" man go down? It's pretty frickin' scary.
Luckily a bunch of military personnel had just arrived at the hotel and an EMT came racing over straight away. He was out cold and we both sat there doing our best to wake him up. I heard someone shout out "Call 9-1-1!"
Those few seconds? Minutes? that C wasn't responding - It was like a lifetime passing before my eyes. I imagined the most horrible of things, and felt my heart starting to break all over again. But then he finally came around. I started to feel hopeful, but he had a really glassy look and couldn't speak for a few seconds and I got even more scared. You could see he was looking at us and was very confused and disorientated.
But then all of a sudden he was back and awake and able to sit up, which was when the paramedics arrived, racing in with a stretcher. C tried to refuse their assistance (as he refused my suggestion of getting travel insurance), but they said they were required by law to check him out. So out came the oxygen and the heart monitors.
After running several different tests, he was deemed okay, though he did have slightly low oxygen levels and slightly high blood sugar. The paramedics got the okay from the doctor they worked with and went on their merry way. Funnily enough, one of them was the husband of The Company's vet - which means that everyone and their dog will be au courant by the time I go into work on Monday. But oh well, that's small town Minnesota for ya.
We went back to our room, and I just sat there, on the couch, with so much adrenalin running through my veins. So relieved he was okay. But also scared. Scared of loving someone that much and scared at the thought something could ever happen to him. Scared at the idea of having to live without him. Scared of another broken heart.
I think that for a long time, I sort of kept C at arm's length because I was worried about getting hurt again. And now I have let him in, and it's suddenly hit me that this means it could happen all over again. Not on purpose, but a freak accident, a disease, whatever. Of course it's highly possible that we could both live happily ever after until the ripe old age of 90. But thinking about the idea of "What If" scares the frickin' bejeezus out of me....