I shouldn’t have.

But I had to.

I needed to see people, spend time with people, and experience a normal night with… people.

With the unending stress and mayhem that life has seemed to be for the past few months, and with so much work to get moved, and unpacked, and settled, and with the pictures hung, and no more trips back and forth to our old house, or our storage unit, or the trash dumpsters, or to Goodwill…

I was just at that point. I needed to see people. I’m an extrovert. It’s how I get right mentally and emotionally once more.

Then…

“This can’t wait. Let’s get you into surgery first thing, Monday.”

In that moment, it wasn’t the word “surgery” that gave me pause. Oh heck, no. I would have handed the doctor a hacksaw, held out my arm, and declared “take it off now!” if I thought it would end whatever this is I’ve been going through.

What gave me pause was realizing just how bad it was, just how bad it was getting, and that I probably should cancel my friends coming over that weekend.

But, I had to see people. Doped up? Sure. Unable to move much? Why not? A complete turd of a vegetable sitting on the couch when they came over? Most likely. But I had to see people. So, I told my friends Devin and Daniela what was going on. I told ‘em I’d still love to see ‘em. And I told ‘em we’d have to keep it super low-key and chill. “Bring your bathing suits!” I said. “Let’s hot tub it up.”

Why not? With all my sits-baths I’ve been taking, I saw no harm in hot tubbing. In fact, it’d probably help my bum.

I just didn’t expect to wake up after the hot tub, with my head resting on the ground next to a public toilet, staring into the faces of my friends as they frantically repeated my name, “Dan, Dan, Dan. Come back to us, Dan.”

The hot tub was fantastic. It was exactly what I needed in that moment. The heat of it was soothing my pain. The genuine laughter with my friends made me feel normal. My upcoming surgery was suddenly an eternity away. The stress of the last few months melted away. Yes, this was a good idea.

And then it hit me.

Wooziness.

Daniela had just started telling a story which I’m sure was a story worth listening to, but I cut her off.

“Let’s go get some food,” I said.

Devin laughed. “Hold on, Daniela is telling us a story, then let’s go.”

I sat up on the edge of the hot tub. Daniela finished her story. We all got out. And as I dried off in the frigid air leftover by a passing winter storm we’d had earlier last week, the wooziness hit me again. Daniela asked if I was okay. She had seen me stumble to a patio chair and sit down gingerly (I only sit down gingerly lately). I’m fine, just need some food, is what I told her. The wooziness passed, and we all headed into the building.

Now, right inside the entrance is this large, community shower/bathroom/changing room. “Should we just rinse off real quick in here?” I asked. They both thought it was a good idea, so into the room we went.

The next few moments are kind of a blur.

I think Devin was over at the shower trying to get some hot water going.

I have no idea where Daniela was.

I only remember that wooziness hitting me again.

I remember leaning against the paper towel holder.

And, just as everything in my world went white, I remember wondering if it wasn’t good to mix Lortab and hot tubs.

I had never fainted before that moment. I had blacked out on that mountain top a few years ago. I have been put to sleep by doctors. When I was little I got knocked out with a jolt of electricity. But I’ve never straight-up fainted.

It’s a very surreal feeling, coming back into consciousness after you faint. This is what I remember…

First I heard their voices. “Dan, Dan, Dan. Come back to us, Dan.”

I opened my eyes and it felt like I had been out for thirty minutes at least. It felt like I had just had the longest, most incredible dream that I could not remember. My two friends were on their hands and knees, with their faces centimeters from mine. I looked up. A toilet bowl loomed above me. “Did I just faint?” I asked them. They told me I did. “Oh my God. How long was I out?” I asked, mortified. I just knew they had been in their nursing passed-out-me forever. They told me only a few seconds.

My next thought was about my bum. Had I hurt it worse? I didn’t feel any pain, strangely. That was good.

My next thought was, “of course it had to be while I was half-naked in a bathing suit.”

And my next thought was just a thought of straight-up, horrific embarrassment that it happened at all. “I am so sorry,” I kept telling them. “I am so sorry. I am so embarrassed.”

They kept telling me it was completely okay. To rest. But with every second that passed on the floor, I became more embarrassed for some reason. This was not how the night was supposed to be. This was not what they were here for.

Against their wishes, I stood up and told them I was fine. And in all fairness, I had felt fine on the floor. The first clue that I wasn’t completely with it should have been that germaphobe-me hadn’t even thought about where I was laying, what grossness might now be all over me, and how I should probably get it off of me. The first clue I actually got was when within seconds I was immediately trying to find another wall to lean against as the wooziness set in once more.

Then, just like the first time, everything went fuzzy; everything went bright white; and the last thing I remember was Devin lunging forward and grabbing me in a bear hug to keep me from falling hard.

I came to, once again to the sound of my frantic friends’ voices. Just like the first time, it felt like I had been out for quite some time, lost in some dream that I wanted to remember. Just like the first time, they assured me it had been no more than a few seconds. And, unlike the first time, I listened to my friends when they insisted I stay down for a little while.

Devin ran to the apartment and came back with bread, a cold drink, and some other snacks. Daniela was just so kind while he was gone, assuring me that it was okay while I assured her repeatedly that I was just embarrassed beyond embarrassed.

Keep in mind, this is on the floor of a public changing/shower/bathroom.

And it was on the floor of that public changing/shower/bathroom that I realized just how good of people Daniela and Devin really are.

“I’m just so embarrassed,” I kept telling them. And it’s so true. I was so embarrassed by it all.

But instead of just shrugging it off…

And instead of just telling me it was fine…

And instead of rubbing my nose in it with humor…

And instead of making me feel stupid…

And instead of doing any of those things that humans often do to each other…

They got down…

On that disgusting floor…

Lied down in their bathing suits next to me…

And we just stayed there for the longest time, laughing, talking, and having (all of that aside) a normal, fun night with friends.

I honestly don’t know how long we were laying there. Ten minutes? Twenty minutes? It didn’t matter. We could have been sitting on my living room sofa and not a lot would have been different. And that was the best gift they could have given me that night. The gift of normalcy.

Oh, and what good is a moment like that without some AMAZING selfies to go with it. Thanks, Daniela, for making sure these happened. Hahahaha.

Read More At:

My Dead First Husband Is Haunting My Marriage

My Husband Is Ashamed of Me

My Husband Barely Talks to Me Anymore — So I Cheated on Him

My Husband Is a Big Bore

My Husband is a Compulsive Gambler

My Husband Is Depressed

When Your Boyfriend Flirts Too Much

When "Taking It Slow" Feels Like a Red Flag

The Ethics Of Breaking Up With A Sick Partner

State of the Relationship Union

Widowed and Dating: Navigating Sympathy and Honesty

Love vs. Security: Can You Build a Future Without That ‘Spark’?

What Really Counts as Cheating?

Polyamory Dating or Just Playing?