April 25 - Panic Buttons

It was the evening after a relatively relaxing day on a kid-less weekend. I was piddling around on our ancient piano, and Dale was playing with the rambunctious dog. Those two are often rougher than I'm comfortable with, but apparently that's how boys relate to each other, and Jasper doesn't seem to a)hold a grudge or b)be any worse for wear. So usually I try to ignore it.

This time I couldn't. Dale was sitting on the floor behind me, slamming his palm down loudly, making Jasper bark and the floor shake. Suddenly I felt like I couldn't catch my breath, a burning weight tore through my chest. It felt like I'd been shot in the back with a rifle, ripping through my right shoulder blade and blasting a big hole through my front.

My brain felt completely like it was re-living an old trauma. My lungs didn't seem to work, my heart felt weak. I could objectively discern that nothing was physically wrong, but I seemed to keep seeing an open field full of soldiers from around the Civil War times. I couldn't stop trembling. My chest seared with pain. I kept thinking: I don't really believe in re-incarnation - do I? Weird what our minds can do, huh? I don't like loud noises, especially startling ones with aggressive implications. But I live in a house with 3 (sometimes 4) gregarious kids, a sweet dog with a shocking bark, and a drummer. I'm doomed! :-)