Death by Whatever

I went to Six Flags the other day and thought I was going to die. No joke. The history is that I've been there a billion times and have always enjoyed riding roller coasters. This time, as we approached the pinnacle, as my sister and I sat entrapped in this metal container, I thought I was going to see Jesus. I saw the ground so terribly far below me, panicked at how high we actually were, and literally have never been so scared in my life. I've never had that feeling before. The rational part of my brain that is supposed to identify this as "fun" labeled it "imminent doom". Never mind why, in my right mind would I straps myself in willingly, endure a torturous fall where I always black out and leave with a POUNDING headache? I'm assuming this is due mostly to the next statement.

This sounds pretty morbid but let me explain. I imagine scenarios entailing my own death often. I can always identify situations around me that would lead to a horrible demise. I attribute this morbidity to the uncommon circumstances surrounding a majority of our patients injuries. When you see people who got a 2X4 through their neck in a car wreck and are now paralyzed (really happened) or a woman who was in an elevator when it broke and fell 22 feet leaving her with both broken legs (really happened), or a man who got his leg bit off by a random zebra (I wish for his sake that that was false), you see those imaginary situations awaiting for you.

Whenever I'm driving, I never follow behind large trucks with ladders or wood or whatever in the back because that's just asking for one through your windshield, pinning you to the seat as the firemen use the jaws of life to get you out as the gasoline spills out and you are racing the clock.

If I was cooking and my kitchen exploded and my face was horribly burned beyond recognition would I want a face transplant? Who would I want to look like? Would I turn to online dating?

I saw someone in a movie who had gotten their arm cut off in a foreign country and had to get it amputated. It physically caused me agony to think of myself in that situation, more for the horridly unsterile nature of that environment than the actual injury. I would demand a jet from the embassy to take me out, rather than dying of sepsis alone in some godforsaken place.

If I got shot, what part of my body would I most willingly sacrifice? Arm? Leg? Would I get a gang tat after that to legitimize the experience?

If I got kidnapped like the movie Taken and was sold to the European slave trade, would Liam Neilson be there to save me? Or would I have to stab someone with a heroin needle to avoid hallacious STD's and an early death in a brothel?

If I was on a plane and someone emergency surgery and we were in the middle of the Atlantic ocean and there was no help for hours and no one else medical on the plane and the person was asking me to save him on his dying breath, would I perform a tracheotomy to save his life using a straw and a balloon to ventilate him?? Would I???

These are the weird things that go through my mind. I understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore. I can't help it. You could be walking down the street and someone could drop a piano on your head. Unlikely, yes, but somebody once made the mistake of thinking that impossible. But most of the time, I just focus on being alive and thanking the Lord for protecting me thus far.

And if you need help falling asleep at night, I'm not the person to call. Goodnight.