I shouldn't be alive?
Posted: Wed Jul 19, 2006 4:34 am
Okay, let me set the stage for you: It's Summer 1991. I am at this crappy summer camp, dragged there against my will by my parents. So I am standing out on a dock in my swimsuit debating as to whether or not I should go for a swim. Next thing I know I am in the water. I look up and I can see the light from the sun reflected in the water. Then it all goes black.
I hear the song "Stand" by R.E.M. playing and I slowly open my eyes to find that I am in the Nurse's station. I panic because I have somehow tele-ported or something and my chest hurts and I just want to know what the f*** is going on. The Nurse comes over to me and explains the whole thing: I was standing on the pier when another camper who wasn't paying attention knocked me into the water. I sank like a rock and one of the counselors swam in after me. They pulled me to the shore of the lake and found I wasn't breathing. The counselor performed CPR and the nurse was called out to come get me after I started to breathe on my own.
After spending many years thinking about it I have come to the only one logical conclusion: I was supposed to die that day.
So, like, what now? If I am living a life I'm not supposed to, who is penalized? The counselor that saved me? Me, for not dying like I was supposed to? Help me out here.
I hear the song "Stand" by R.E.M. playing and I slowly open my eyes to find that I am in the Nurse's station. I panic because I have somehow tele-ported or something and my chest hurts and I just want to know what the f*** is going on. The Nurse comes over to me and explains the whole thing: I was standing on the pier when another camper who wasn't paying attention knocked me into the water. I sank like a rock and one of the counselors swam in after me. They pulled me to the shore of the lake and found I wasn't breathing. The counselor performed CPR and the nurse was called out to come get me after I started to breathe on my own.
After spending many years thinking about it I have come to the only one logical conclusion: I was supposed to die that day.
So, like, what now? If I am living a life I'm not supposed to, who is penalized? The counselor that saved me? Me, for not dying like I was supposed to? Help me out here.