Friday, June 17, 2011

Hot Feet & Ambulances

My feet were so hot. . . I had to keep sliding my toes in and out of my shoes. I could not believe how hot my shoes were. I know that black absorbs heat but this was unreal. Even when I touched my shoe with my hand, it was hot to the touch.
Jon and I were at a ship commissioning for the Navy. We were very excited to be there, not many people have the opportunity, and we love patriotic events.  We had driven to Mobile early and were dressed as the invitation had instructed, “business dress”.  Jon and I both had jackets but women are luckier than men since women’s suits come in lighter weights than men’s suits.
We had previously attended ship christenings and at those events the seating area had been covered with a tent and there had been outside air conditioning so we had not really thought much about the heat. This event was different; it was a Navy event, not a shipyard event, so these amenities were not provided.  This makes sense in hindsight but we certainly did not think of at the time.  We had to be at the dock by 9:30 for the ceremony which began at 11:00.  It was very close to 100 degrees Fahrenheit.
By the beginning of the ceremony, we had been in direct sun for nearly two hours. The water bottles that we had been given when we arrived were empty and the sun was so intense that the color was leached out of the landscape.  The sky was a perfect cloudless blue and what little wind there was warm.  I tried to take some photos but the light was so bright that the focus screen appeared blank so I could not see what I was shooting.  Both of us had long ago shed our jackets.
Even the speakers on the platform referenced the heat and some of them shorten their address out of respect for it. Neither one of us felt very well. I was dizzy and I did not want to faint so for the first time in my life I did not remain standing for the national anthem.
As the ceremony progressed, more and more people began to balance their open programs on their heads as makeshift hats from the sun.  Jackets were draped over chairs and the more experienced souls sheltered under umbrellas.  The ceremony was very impressive but I confess that at some point it became hard to think about anything but the sun. All the energy was gone from the crowd; we began to look like well-dressed zombies as soaked clothes stuck to limbs and women’s makeup melted.  I envied the women who had hats.
I was worried about Jon.  He was drenched with sweat and I knew that his dress shirt and undershirt gave him two layers of clothing to deal with.  At least I was more lightly dressed. I also knew that he had really looked forward to this event and I did not want to let home down by wimping out on him.  Unlike me, he had not had to sit down at any point so I was feeling like the weak link.

The final event was a short tour of the ship.  In all honesty, the idea of moving my very warm toes across a metal deck was not appealing but when would this chance come again? We both fell in line for the slow march up on the ship and into some blessed shade.  I am afraid that the shade is about all I remember of the ship, that shade and a quick drink at a water fountain.

The respite was brief and when we hit the sun again, we decided against walking to the bow of the ship. I told Jon that I could hear my heart racing and he said his was too.  We were fading and we both really, really, wanted to get out of the sun.  When we got off the ship, a golf cart offered us a ride and we accepted, dropping all pretenses that we could handle the walk back.  Jon said later that this was point when he began to feel pretty bad and his vision began to distort.

All I could think about was getting out of the sun and to the reception where there might be something to drink.  The world had taken a yellow cast like over-exposed film.  Jon was behind me a few steps and we were near a medical station. At that moment, Jon said “I feel really, really bad” and then he collapsed.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, focuses your attention as much as watching the person who is most important to you in this life crumble like a paper bag.

I tried to catch him but the Navy and Red Cross personnel appeared out of heaven and got him seated and began working with him.  He was way, way too hot and his color was draining away to grey. They poured water on his head and neck and explained that you cannot drench someone who has heat exhaustion or heat stroke or they will go into hyperthermia. He could not speak and his head dropped to one side.

I honestly thought that I might lose him.

The ambulance came and took us to the emergency room. They gave me water and had me sit in the front of the ambulance in the air conditioning while they transferred Jon.  This was a long time for me, nearly twenty minutes, since he had to be moved from the ambulance in the secure area to the ambulance I was in.  You can imagine a lot of very bad things in twenty minutes.

Many IV bags and hours, later Jon’s blood pressure was close to normal and his heart rate came back down. We left the hospital that evening; Mobile Infirmary is an emergency care center so we were glad to be heading home. They were so overcrowded they were redirecting ambulances.

Jon is fine now.  We are both very wary of the heat and I learned that you are supposed to drink a bottle of water every twenty minutes if you are outside in the high temperatures.  You will dehydrate very quickly in the sun if you do not do this. We were only in the sun for about four hours which really does not sound like such a long time but it was certainly long enough make Jon very ill.

Oh, and remember, my very hot feet? At the hospital, I discovered that the soles of my shoes had melted and the uppers were partly unglued from the soles.  I bought Jon the only shirt from hospital shop in his size so he would not have to put on his soaked shirt when he was released. It was bright orange and had something about Auburn football printed on it. I had to cut the sleeves out since it was long sleeves. He left the hospital wearing a cut up t-shirt, suit slacks, dress shoes and enough hospital bands for a mental patient. I was so sunburned that my jewelry had left “print “marks and my clothes were still wet.  With my “floppy” shoes and the paper bag filled with Jon’s clothes as accessories, we were very grunge. 

I am certain that we made quite an impression on the taxi driver that took us back to our car.  It was a dramatic contrast to how we had begun the day.  I was just very thankful that we ended the day in the most important quality of all; we left home as a couple and we returned home as couple.
 I am very, very thankful.