It Could Have Been Me Part 2

Make sure you scroll down and read Part 1 first.

Our first GLORIA performance was Friday night. I wasn't feeling well. And we get to stand through the whole concert while holding our breath out for insane amounts of time and taking innumerable quick breaths that can make your head dizzy on a day when you feel well.

The last song before intermission the symptoms appeared. I got very hot and began to sway. My peripherals became black. I decided to just mouth the words to save my breath. Halfway through I put my music down and instead focused all my efforts on just staying afoot. Then there was clapping and I quickly staggered down the aisle to the green room. I fanned myself off, drank lots of water, and ate a few bites. I felt 100% better and was so relieved that I had not fainted.

Onto Act II of the performance. I made sure to keep my knees bent. I shifted my weight frequently. I probably looked more like a bouncing Baptist than a member of a dignified choral society. Then midway through the second-to-last song the symptoms appeared again.

But this time to my neighbor beside me.

She started swaying and was very disoriented. Her sister to her left and I tried to get her to sit down on the little ledge behind us. She refused, but finally relented. As she sat, I kept my arm behind her to steady her and held my music with my other hand. Suddenly she became a dead weight in my arms. Her hands spasmed and she dropped her head and her music which went sprawling on the floor. My eyes became wide as I tried to hold her up. Luckily a strong gentleman from the audience came to the rescue.

We lowered her to the ground, her legs all crumpled beneath her. The choir around us, including her sister, continued singing their "Gloria in excelsis deo"s while my neighbor lay on the floor like a corpse. A nurse from the audience came to offer advice. I raised her knees as instructed and continued to fan her pale face with my choir music. The nurse asked me her name as they tried to revive her. Blank... What kind of a neighbor am I? I don't even know my neighbor's name? Sure I'm new to the group, but the nurse didn't know that. I pretended not to hear the question. Afterall, there was an angelic choir still singing in my ear.

By the time the last song started, Wendy (I quickly learned her name afterward) began to come to. I gave her some water and the nurse and I helped her sit up. I continued to keep my hand on her back just in case. But I joined my voice with the rest of the choir.

"The Show Must Go On" has never had such meaning to me. Perhaps I should have stood with the choir and let the Good Samaritans from the audience do the reviving. But I had to help. Sure it left a big hole in the formation since two of its members were on the floor, but I do not regret it.

Besides, it could have been me. In fact, it probably should have been me.

I was laughing driving home that night. Laughing mostly out of joy. Joy that I knew I had done all I could to help in the situation. Joy because Wendy was fine and in good spirits - though a bit embarrassed. Joy because I was glad it hadn't been me. Joy because I knew that if it had been me that there are good people who are willing to help at a moment's fall. Joy because I knew I had been one of those good people tonight.