Home with my 5-year-old best buddy McCoy today. He was feverish, sluggish. I was giving him a breathing treatment when he slumped forward, then began to twitch. His eyes rolled back, and he turned the shade of that dark lettuce that I always pick out of my salads. I snatched him into my arms and held him tight.
I knew he was having a febrile seizure - a seizure brought on by a quick spike in body temp. I knew they are common and actually fairly innocuous. It didn't help as he twitched in my arms, lifeless and limp and purple.
After a moment that seemed like an hour, he relaxed and began breathing. I laid him on his back gently and called EMS. By the time they arrived, McCoy's vitals were better. Mine weren't. I thought I was losing my Little man. We have big plans, he and I. We have mountains and molehills to climb together.
When his cobwebs cleared, he looked past the emergency workers and caught my eye. He smiled weakly and said, "I missed you, daddy."
I missed him, too.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, September 12, 2011
Here Comes the Bride
Worked a Bridal Extravaganza yesterday with some of my gym co-workers. Trying to drum up a little training business. Brides kind of like to look their best on their big day; grooms, we just try to not look our worst.
I talked to several dozen young ladies, all of whom absolutely, positively wanted and needed a personal trainer. I nodded politely, offered them my information and sent them on their way, absolutely, positively knowing that, in 91% of these instances, I would either:
(1) Never heard from her again.
(2) Hear from her, tell her about the rates and find that she believed that trainers cost about $3.75/session.
(3) Hear from her, tell her about the rates and learn that she would call me back after arising her fiance, who had fallen into a deep trance after attending something called a Bridal Extravaganza.
(Note: To receive a 9% callback ratio would be a good number; often, at parties, I am approached by women who absolutely, positively want to start training, yesterday. In 99% of these instances, I don't think they remember the conversation the next day.)
But a few new clients will likely emerge from the event, which is something of a battle of attrition. Standing on your feet for six straight hours while being pleasant and friendly is an underrated skill, and I have new respect for all Florsheim employees and those who sell Subaru Brats.
There are many occasions that remind me that I am glad to be already married. Watching the catatonic groom-elects walk robotically by, agreeing catatonically with their beloveds as they snuck peeks at their phones, was yet another one.
Heading into work now, where I hope to have a message from Vivian, who wants to begin training 1X/week, every-other week, for the next month with full expectation of becoming JLo by her wedding day.
I talked to several dozen young ladies, all of whom absolutely, positively wanted and needed a personal trainer. I nodded politely, offered them my information and sent them on their way, absolutely, positively knowing that, in 91% of these instances, I would either:
(1) Never heard from her again.
(2) Hear from her, tell her about the rates and find that she believed that trainers cost about $3.75/session.
(3) Hear from her, tell her about the rates and learn that she would call me back after arising her fiance, who had fallen into a deep trance after attending something called a Bridal Extravaganza.
(Note: To receive a 9% callback ratio would be a good number; often, at parties, I am approached by women who absolutely, positively want to start training, yesterday. In 99% of these instances, I don't think they remember the conversation the next day.)
But a few new clients will likely emerge from the event, which is something of a battle of attrition. Standing on your feet for six straight hours while being pleasant and friendly is an underrated skill, and I have new respect for all Florsheim employees and those who sell Subaru Brats.
There are many occasions that remind me that I am glad to be already married. Watching the catatonic groom-elects walk robotically by, agreeing catatonically with their beloveds as they snuck peeks at their phones, was yet another one.
Heading into work now, where I hope to have a message from Vivian, who wants to begin training 1X/week, every-other week, for the next month with full expectation of becoming JLo by her wedding day.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Hello Again. Hello.
Took a little time off between posts. Okay, about three years. I've had writer's block.
Anyway, I'm supposed to start (re)blogging to increase my writer's presence in the stratosphere. Part of the game in today's digital world. So I will offer daily antecdotes, lists, best-of's and simple observations. There are stories all around us...it's the job of a writer to put those pictures into words.
I hope you enjoy.
Jeff
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