A Shriek or A Scream?
We’re in the midst of the World Cup. Soccer. I really enjoy watching the games.
There, I said it, and it’s out of the way. That’s really all you need to know for this post. I am competitive, though really my only sparring is in verbal combat. It’s both a sport and a skill, as I like to think of it. If you’re wondering, I’m pretty good at the smack talk, if I do say myself, (which I do).
But, when I’m watching a game, like really watching, I’m not that much for talking, I’m all about reacting. (Hence why in my last post I shared how I needed reminders to keep breathing—which I actually increased multiple times over thanks to you, readers!) My mother knows this, everyone in our house who works for her, knows this, (as I’ve been talking about the games.)
Except, they forgot recently… And my bereft gasp in horror as the opposing team scored yet another goal, and well, came out as a shriek.
Then, the dogs came running, then foot steps.
I was in my room, not disturbing anyone with my game, but with the door open, and, it just happened.
Of course none-of my coughing “I’m okays”, that I was yelling out got heard. It wasn’t until about 3 steps from my door did it dawn on my mother that the game was on and it probably wasn’t critical.
The scene she entered was one of Camelot standing over me, wanting to identify the upseter; my mom’s not-so-small-two-year-old poodle puppy, who had heard my cry and come racing to me, licking my face to ensure I was really alright; and me, part coughing, part watching in horror over my teams certain defeat as only minutes were left in the game.
I was apologetic, vaguely guilty, and yet, not sorry. It was a game! Wasn’t there just one time—one moment of life that I could enjoy and not have the ramifications of my health spoil it? While it was obviously a “false alarm,” the speed in which my mother came running and the whiteness of her face made it clear as day I had scared her.
Ironically, though, when she was trying to regain her breath, and shake off the scare, I was more surprised she was thrown by the scream. It’s when I can’t scream, cough, or make a sound, and need help that I’m in real trouble, (and I’m scared). The rest is, well, window dressing; scary for a moment but not life-threatening. In hindsight I think it as much surprised her, as I rarely make any loud noises like that.
Thankfully, though, in the counted 30 seconds or so that went by as the ball was put back in play and I bravely went on watching my team try and come up with the ball (and fail). And life carried on. I had my in-between games nap, and got ready for the next one. The two dogs were determined that I would not get so upset again. I now make triple certain that everyone knows when a game is on, just in case an errant gasp might escape again. Which it has; it’s been a World Cup full of upsets and unpredictability!
Signing off now to prepare for the next game. Sometimes, there’s just not room for bad moments. It’s simply time to enjoy!