Down, but not out…part 2…

Although light was bleeding through the window blinds, I could barely see the trash can and the empty floor area. Struggling to breathe air as the seat belt continued to crush my stomach caused panic to run through my brain, full of the worst-case scenarios. Then, finally, understanding that being unable to respire was terrible as the human body needed air for life to exist, I did not know if mine would last much longer. Quickly I ran through the sequence of events in my head about what I had done and could have done, but I urgently changed my thoughts to the task at hand: escape.

It was hard to catch my breath, like trying to grasp a Vaseline-coated eel, and I feared passing out in this perilous, pendulous position. I continued struggling to gain freedom from my swinging prison, it was like an elephant sat on my chest, and I could not take in air. I tried again to climb the drawers, hoping to lift enough to find the elusive air I so desperately needed, yet I was unsuccessful. My heart was pounding as I fiercely tried anything to escape what I thought would be an extremely odd final resting place or hanging place, as it were.

In the chaotic panic, I forgot that when I tied something onto my body, I always used a quick-release knot as emergencies could happen anytime. However, in the relatively dark space, I had to find the rope’s end, which was the quick-release part of the webbing. So I hung like a Christmas ornament floating on the tree, I flopped around like a fish out of water trying to escape this sling swing. I was looking for the correct part to pull and release me from this jungle gym jail, end this mess, and rescue this day and me.

I found an end piece to the belt and pulled with dwindling strength the longer I hung, trying to breathe. The more I tugged in this pendulum position, the more I realized I had the wrong end, and I quickly began the hunt for the other piece. As I dangled in my dark office, my arms got heavy and reaching became challenging, meaning I needed a rest. I did not feel I had the time, but I stopped and took several slow, deep breaths to allow my muscles a brief respite. It was a struggle for this much-needed rest, but successful as I quickly found the other end of this makeshift seat belt and yanked on it with newfound vigor.

After my brief rest, I had a newfound strength, though it took some effort to free me from the not-so-quick-release knot I tied. Dropping like a rock, I crashed and hit my neck when I heard something click, scaring me as the sound continually echoed in my head after my landing. I crashed with my chest down, face and neck twisted to the right, and I feared moving as I was sure my neck had snapped on the way down. With no strength to move, I was terrified of shifting my body, as I knew neck injuries could be quite severe. A little after 3:00 a.m. I was flat on the floor and could not move because of my strength and my neck with no phone; then I remembered my smart speaker.

Pain radiated through my body as the fall was easy, but the landing was brutal as I fell on hard surface flooring. I spoke as loudly and clearly as possible with my face pressed against the floor and said, “Alexa, call 911.” Without haste, she replied with a devastating response, telling me she could not call Emergency Services from that device. I hated to call anyone that early in the morning, but this was what they called an emergency, so I said, “Alexa, call mom.” Her phone did not even ring and immediately went to voicemail, so I continued calling and filled her voicemail until the mailbox was full. 

So from zero dark thirty until six in the morning, I continued to call my mom’s phone, begging for help. I tried to call other people, but my smart speaker would not allow me to call anyone else. I began contemplating life and thought I had lived a good life and put plenty of positivity in the world, so if this was the end, I was okay with it. That was a little dramatic, I know, but I would be lying if I did not say that was precisely how I felt as I waited, tired and in pain. Stay tuned till next week to hear the dramatic ending of this vicious story. 

Your imagination is so much worse than reality.

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