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The Daily Post Jun 15, 2015
Daily Prompt: In a Crisis
Honestly evaluate the way you respond to crisis situations. Are you happy with the way you react?
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I always fancied that having kids prepared a person for responding to crisis situations with some kind of mental/emotional aplomb. After all, how many bloody lips and skinned knees and elbows had I treated? And what about the time when my son fell trying to stuff a basketball in the net and knocked his three upper front teeth out two weeks before the orchestra was to go to California (he played trumpet and French horn).
And what about allergies — the time my daughter nearly stopped breathing from an allergic reaction to a scented candle at the dinner table on Christmas day, and my son’s throat closing up when he was three because we didn’t know he was allergic to peanut butter.
Then there was the time his lordship’s colon burst while he was hunting and he ended up having a colostomy which I had to learn to irrigate for a year. I thought I was a brave little sucker! But it turned out I wasn’t as brave as I thought I was. When finally put to the test one day, I found myself sorely disillusioned
I was the secretary at our church for 22 years. An old church building from the turn of the century, it was still heated by the original boiler. One cold, autumn Saturday morning nearly 20 years ago now, I was working when Dan, a church member, came in and went down the basement to light the boiler. Something was going on that night, and though the little space heaters were good for the office, the rest of the old building was like being in cold storage. I was standing in the second-floor office filing when all of a sudden there was a big WHOOSH and all the doors slammed shut then slammed back open. I stood rooted to the spot. Then it happened again. It took me a few seconds to realize the boiler must have blown up — and Dan was downstairs with it.
I couldn’t move. For a good five minutes or better I stood stock still and waited to see what would happen. Nothing. Another few minutes passed and, not hearing anything from Dan, I realized I needed to go downstairs. I was terrified. I didn’t think the building was on fire or the alarm would have gone off. But what of Dan? What if he was injured and needed help? What if he was dead? It took every ounce of courage I had to finally force myself down the long flight of stairs to the main floor. By the time I reached the basement door, there was Dan crawling his way up the stairs, smoke rolling off his back, his shirt in tatters, the side of his face covered in blood. Fortunately his back had been to the boiler when it blew up.
My heart sank into my shoes as I ran to call 911. I was sick with the thought that I very nearly hadn’t been able to make myself go downstairs to see what had happened. What the hell was I thinking? I KNEW Dan was down there. There was a knot in the pit of my stomach that is still there to this day when I let myself think about it. It wasn’t just that I failed to help Dan as I should, it was that I let MYSELF down as well. I couldn’t help feeling I was NOT the person I always thought I was.
Dan’s injuries turned out to be minor, though there were some burns on his back and the side of his face. I was unimaginably grateful he was alive. The first time I saw him at church after that, I thought I’d throw up. In the end I think I must have apologized to him a dozen times for my tardiness in coming to help. He was so gracious. Now, all these years later, when I run in to him the first thing he does is hold up a finger as if to say, “Don’t apologize to me one more time!” Then he’ll laugh. I think he understands that the incident left as much of a scar on my psyche as it did on his body.
ekpreston said:
Good grief. What a scary experience. I’m glad that everything turned out okay. I have a feeling that you didn’t pause nearly as long as you think that you did. It was probably more like seconds than minutes, but that’s what happens in crises sometimes. Time moves like molasses even though only a few seconds go by. The important thing was that you did go to check on him, and when you saw that he was hurt, you didn’t panic or abandon him. You called 911, and that was what was needed. I agree with Dan–no more apologies. You are a terrific person, and you have nothing to feel guilty about.
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calensariel said:
Got knocked off my high horse pretty good that day! Might say it knocked some sense into me. 🙂
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rogershipp said:
A great story!
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calensariel said:
Well, I’m just thankful it had a happy ending. And that I learned something about myself. Thank you so much for stopping by, Roger. I appreciate your taking the time to comment. I’ll stop by your place later today for a visit.
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rogershipp said:
You are always welcome!
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badfish said:
I think this is a very interesting and normal reaction. And certainly nothing you need feel sorry about. First, you didn’t KNOW what happened. Doors closing and opening…doesn’t sound like something blowing up—no flames, no problem. Still…something wrong. Perhaps it’s like hearing a fire alarm go off in a building. You hope it’s nothing. Then, you go find out later, hoping it’s still nothing. And writing this seems a decidedly brave thing to do. But listen…if I’m ever fixing the boiler and you hear ANY freakin noise…come get me, dangit!
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calensariel said:
Well fish, that would have to be one hell of a big explosion! LOL But I’d do my best. I think I learned a lot about courage from that happening. Can’t say how I’d react if I ran into something like that again, but hopefully I would take a page out of Judy’s book (down below a few comments) and be more rational and calm. The one thing I CAN say about it is that I wasn’t worried about my safety. I was worried I couldn’t help Dan. Helping seems to be the hallmark of how I care for people. I guess I didn’t think I’d be up to this one.
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badfish said:
Well, I guess this turned out to be a good prompt for you…and others who might have learned something about themselves. It’s funny for me: little things make me blow up, but when something big happens, I am calm in the face of it. But I don’t believe I’ve had a really huge crisis.
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Fimnora Westcaw said:
You blame yourself for the hesitation, but do you give yourself credit for going anyway? You should! {{{Calen}}}
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calensariel said:
I know. Dan was wonderfully affirming about it, even when he was laying on the stretcher. I just disappointed myself so much, you know. I thought I was a better person than that, I guess.
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tjmark said:
You did go and all ended well. I fall into those kinds of guilt trips too sometimes and then realize it is just pride to think I should be without fault. I’d forgive anyone, except sometimes myself. Great story.
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calensariel said:
Sometimes I wonder why it’s so hard to forgive ourselves and just as hard to love ourselves. I’m just thankful that Dan wasn’t hurt any worse than he was. He didn’t have a full head of hair for a long time after that!
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platosgroove said:
You went.
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calensariel said:
Yes, I did. I was terrified of what I’d find.
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platosgroove said:
Yet you went sugar. You pushed through and acted
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calensariel said:
Funny that I can’t seem to do that with little things in my life. Push through them and do or say what I need to. I guess adrenalin had something to do with it, eh? ❤
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platosgroove said:
I think you are in that very process
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calensariel said:
Well I’m going to have to get a whole lot braver before it makes any difference. I know, I know… Practice makes perfect.
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platosgroove said:
Me too
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calensariel said:
You’re already brave, goofus. Look at what you’re doing with your poetry! Never met anyone so determined to take a shot at what he REALLY wants to do with his life. Darllin ‘, you’re my hero! And don’t talk back to me, I’m in a mood tonight. 😛
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platosgroove said:
ok i want. im too scared 🙂
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calensariel said:
😀 ❤
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lifelessons said:
https://grieflessons.wordpress.com/2015/06/15/crisis-reasoning/
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calensariel said:
Thanks for the link, Judy. I’ll go have a read…
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lifelessons said:
Wow. This is a brave story, Calen. Well-written and interesting to boot. Admitting one’s past weaknesses is as brave as a quick response in the face of danger. Good for you, girl. Judy
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calensariel said:
Dan has given me permission to not feel guilty anymore. Smile. Doesn’t seem to help. 😦 I think I need a forgiveness intervention.
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