Last night I did a good deed.
As I was making my son's dinner, I noticed some commotion in our parking lot - two cars in odd places, two guys milling around - and I thought there may have been a love tap between the two cars. In about ten minutes I see they are still there, and now it seems as if they are looking for something. So I get my son his dinner and head outside. I asked if something had been lost and if I could help.
A neighbor had slipped in the parking lot, gotten up to shake off the new snow (it was snowing, btw) and his ring had flown off. So sure, I'll help! The other neighbor helping brought out a rake and I took that, hoping to snag the ring on a tine, or sift through the snow and catch it that way. How far could it have gone?
The ring owner had to leave to bring his kid to swim practice, so neighbor C and I kept looking. I remembered my son's metal detector and got that out. We looked, stooped over and getting snowed on, lugging implements around, for over an hour. Nada. Ring owner comes home and we're sorry but we've got to pack it in. My son's inside our home, alone. I give the owner my metal detector and wish him the best.
Less than 15 minutes after I got home the doorbell rang. It was the ring owner, with the metal detector - and his ring!
I'm glad he found it. But my good deed was rewarded - by fate (or, more likely, my own stupidity) not the owner - by ending up having to make my first 911 call. I've been sick for the past few weeks, starting with pneumonia on New Year's, and have lost over 10 pounds since, etc. I overdid it out there. After I got home I began shaking, couldn't get my heart rate down, legs were freezing, stomach upset...my body went nuts from that. I tried water and orange juice, in case I was dehydrated or needed sugar, and some carbs...nothing. Everything getting worse. My anti-anxiety meds not working on it either, and I'd taken three of them in a half hour period (safe, but my "max" dose.) If I'd been alone I'd have taken another pill and toughed it out. But my son was with me, and I needed to be sure I was OK so I called 911. Ended up with a firetruck first because all the close ambulances were out, and that was fine. Then the ambulance came and I had four EMT firefighters in my house, by which time I was starting to feel better. In the end I opted not to go to the hospital but to chalk it up to a panic attack (which I'm sure was a large part of it) and promised to call my doctor.
I think this may be a cue that I need to exercise moderately and eat sensibly. Or, at the moment, at least eat!!!