Nothing To Fear Pamella Laird   © Copyright 2025 by Pamella Laird

Image by Michael De Groot from Pixabay

March 7^th. 2024

What the hell am I doing down here?

I was spread-eagled, face down on the dining room floor—but why? I looked at my watch, 2.14 am. It was dark and I was frozen. The last I recall was going through to the study to sit at my computer and finish a story that seemed anxious to be told. But that had been around 8 o’clock the previous evening, when even though it was getting late, I’d felt so well and full of energy.

The original question recrossed my mind. Why was I lying here in my light summer clothing? I felt the chill in my hands and arms—so cold. There’d been no warning, no pain, no breathlessness—total oblivion. I should get to my feet, have a nice hot shower and get some warmth into my bones. Steadying my hands on the carpet I thrust with both arms but was instantly struck down by an excruciating pain across my shoulders.

Ooooh the pain! I must have passed out because cold and shivering, the next time I glanced at my watch, it was 4.35 and still dark. Another attempt to get off the floor didn’t succeed either, a repeat of the same excruciating pain. Once again everything went black.

At the same time as in the first two minutes of my second attempt to stand, I was engulfed in the sensation of floating on a black cloud. Everything peaceful and serene—I had nothing to worry about. It was a magical, comfortable place to be and I knew without question, that all would be well. Not only was I floating but I appeared to be totally enveloped in a black, velvety softness. Any questions or worries melted away. In my thinking, the idea I might die where I lay, was no problem. Rather that, than go through that pain again? I’d just wait and maybe when the sun rose, it would warm me and take that shooting torture from my shoulders.

7. 35 am. I opened my eyes. Oh yes! Same place, still on the floor and still more than half frozen. I stood and made my way to the shower. It was only when under the water, I realised with disbelief—the piercing pain that had grounded me, hadn’t flashed across my shoulders! I’d stood and walked—moves I’d made without a second thought. The hot water was heavenly.

With the comforting water at last allowing me to feel normal, I reflected on the earlier part of the evening. I remembered going through to the study feeling full of energy and happy to be finishing that story ready for critiquing next day with the Writer’s Group. All was perfectly clear.

I went back to the study to find the small table usually behind my computer chair, lying broken on the floor. Books and papers lay around. Obviously I had fallen there, but how had I managed to get through to the dining-room?

It was still early so I turned on the electric blanket, put on my pyjamas, climbed into bed and rang my daughter. I was almost asleep when in what seemed only minutes, the ambulance men were knocking at my door.

Weeks went by and I coped reasonably happily with several trips back and forth.to the hospital, with the numerous appointments, scans, discussions and blood tests. 

Three months later came a final scan followed by a chat with my doctor. Hewelcomed me with a huge smile, waited until I was comfortably seated before announcing that my final test showed… ‘no damage to heart.’

He said, “You had a heart attack and now look at you. How do you do it?”

My response was more of a query. “Do you think that lying on the carpet on a concrete floor, half frozen for eleven and a half hours might have given my heart time to reset itself and get back to normal?”

“I certainly do think that, and how fortunate you were, not to be disturbed through the night by what might have been people with the best of intentions, getting you off the floor and into hospital. Possibly at that time, quite the wrong thing to do. Otherwise, it seems to me, you are a miracle.”

I laughed. “I certainly feel extremely well except my head remains a little fuzzy.”

“I’m not surprised to hear that, since your brain would have been waiting a while for a blood supply that was slow in coming.”

That night I thought over the feelings and memory of what had happened on a life-threatening night that had come from nowhere. The sensation of peace, even bliss and complete relaxation were clear. Also, the memory of absolutely nothing to worry about, and how such softness and comfort had enveloped me. One thing distinct in my mind—there was no long tunnel with a bright light at the end for me to move towards. Without words, a kindly presence in that unbelievable time of peace, convinced me, all I need do, was relax into the supporting experience of my feelings. 

There was absolutely nothing to fear.