Fragility

My five-year-old had a bad morning, which meant I had a bad morning.  I dealt with complaining, crying, stalling and crawling just to get her out the door to school.   After I dropped her off, later than ever, I drove to the YMCA.  As I approached the door, I saw an instructor limping across the parking lot.  I struck up a conversation and learned that she hasn't been around for a while after having a routine, sports-related medical procedure that resulted in life threatening complications.  Our paths were meant to cross this morning.  

Next, I walked to the weight room, and as I picked up a towel, I noticed a member lying on the floor being attended to by staff.  The mood in the weight room was sobering.  I thought I'd had a bad morning.  The paramedics arrived, and no one left with them, so I'm guessing the person came around and did not need further care.   I reflected on the fragility of us all.  Anything could happen at any time.  When a wellness facility has thousands of members, each with different medical histories, and different fitness levels and hydration and fuel levels in their bodies, people are going to faint and/or get hurt.   I've felt faint at the Y.  That's why the staff is well trained for such emergencies.  A dear friend of mine's husband experienced sudden cardiac death at the Y in October of 2010, and two staff members revived him.  If I have a medical emergency, and am not already at a hospital, there is no place that I would rather be than at the Y.  

My mood shifted on the group run when once again we talked about gourmet cupcakes among a host of topics.   I enjoyed the fellowship and conversation while I recognized how hard I was working to keep up.   It was a great day for a run.