Yesterday morning, I was walking my cat by the frozen river. Yes, I walk my
cat. I know it’s weird, but he likes it, and I like it, so I don’t owe you
an explanation. That’s not the point anyway. This is a story about how I
nearly succumbed to death, and how that would have been okay, because I
still would have saved a life in the process. The trail doesn’t run exactly
parallel to the river—it bends away at places, to get around trees, and the
like. As we were getting back towards it, I started hearing what I initially
thought were birds. It was Buttons who heard it first, actually, he has such
great hearing. I’m sure he knew right away that it was a human. Once I
realized this myself, I dropped the leash, and left the trail. It was tough,
getting through all the brambles and thorns, but I couldn’t wait until we
got to a clearing, because then we would be too far upstream. Buttons
followed me, he’s loyal too. Finally I reached the bank, and nearly slipped
onto the ice myself, which may seem like it wouldn’t matter, because I was
ending up out there anyway, but not right there. I discovered how unstable
it was right there. I looked across, and saw a child on his stomach in the
middle of the river. There was a rope swing nearby that kids use in the
summer, so I assumed he came from that side. Irrelevant. He needed help, and
there was no one else around, so I found my footing, and crawled out to
retrieve him. I know now, you’re supposed to urge them to come to try to
come to you, but he was so little. I tried talking to him, but he just kept
crying. He wasn’t capable of meeting me halfway. Man, I wish I had been on
that other side, though; then I could have thrown him the rope! Or maybe I
would have tied it to myself, and been safer.
Well, crawling started feeling dangerous. I could hear the ice crack under
my weight, so I decided to lie flat, and slide to him. I dug my fingernails
into the top layer, hoping not to disrupt its integrity, and pulled myself
closer little by little, ignoring the blood turning the snow red. He was
facing away from me, so even though I kept talking to him, I didn’t think he
knew I was on my way. Finally I was there. I took him in my arms, and
together we kept going to the other side, because we weren’t exactly in the
center. We were almost to the bank when the ice just fell out from under me.
I held on as best I could, but the current was so strong underneath. The
only thing I could do was push the boy forwards, and get him onto the
ground. When he looked back, I told him to run for help, but it was too
late. I was under. Another random citizen pulled my body out of the river
more than twenty miles downstream, where the water was calmer, and not iced
over. This was eleven hours later. He assumed that I was dead, but that
didn’t stop him from beginning CPR, and having his niece call for help. The
paramedics took over when they arrived, and my heart miraculously started
beating again. I wasn’t conscious, but I was alive. They drove me to the
hospital, where doctors continued treatment. I woke up several hours later,
feeling terrible, but still alive. My family was all around me, crying
because they thought they had lost me. They were all talking about how God
saved me, and I don’t know about that, but I did feel lucky. My own niece
was holding Buttons, having snuck him into the hospital in her purse. I was
grateful that he was okay, but I told her to take him back home, because
there are sick people here, and they don’t need any dirty animals. I was
feeling tired just in time for visiting hours to be over, so I said goodbye
to my family, and tried to get to sleep. But I never woke up.
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