November 2, 2006

Alarm clock

It's not yet 5 am and I am sleeping soundly until I hear a loud thump. Really Loud. It's not the kind of loud thump that just wakes you up, and leaves you wondering what woke you up, but it's so loud you wake up knowing - IT WAS A LOUD THUMP RIGHT OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM DOOR! I sit straight up in bed, waiting for the next noise to know what to do when I hear a moan. "Sara!? Sara, what happened, are you okay?"

This is why I should ALWAYS go to bed with clothes on. Damn!

I am digging through my closet for a t-shirt and shorts when I hear a light knock on my door, "Hold on honey - I don't have any clothes on! So I grab my bath robe, wrap it around me and find my little sister laying on the floor at my feet.

"What happened!!?"

She is starting to cry, "I passed out... I need medicine."

For anyone who is familiar with my sister's medical history - months and months of debilitating, uncontrollable headaches - it is clear why I begin to worry, beyond the fact that my little sister is laying on the hall way floor, bisecting the hallway, with a hole in the wall next to her head the size and shape of a large mango.

I walk down to my dad's room and very calmly (where did that come from?) but loudly say, "Dad, I need for you to get up. She's okay, but Sara passed out, she says she needs medicine. I don't know what kind to give her."

Dad is up in a flash, and waking our house guest, Todd, who is an RN. How fortunate for us! He actually brought a kit too, and comes to where Sara is laying in the hall way to take her blood pressure and pulse.

Sara opts to lay in the hall way for a while, so I get her a blanket, and the theorize about what might have made this happen over a cigarette in the garage while Sara dozes in the hallway, waiting for tylenol to quell the headache the has coming on from hitting her head.

When we come back in Dad gets Sara into bed, Sara insists that her passing out made a high fever break. Todd listens to her lungs, since the last time this happened was when Sara had pneumonia as a kid. He says that there's no crackling, and that about of third of one lung isn't circulating as much oxygen as the other.

Sara lays back down in bed and I say, "Dude, why you always gotta be so dramatic, huh?"

I am so wide awake right now.

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