Thursday, August 31, 2006
lightheaded due to hyperventilation
I told myself earlier today that I wasn't going to post again until I had something interesting to say, ie., after some weekend exploring. Well, shit happens, don't it?
Namely the thing we've been expecting (and have several times imagined was happening whilst lying in bed at night). Things were shaking just now and it wasn't just us adjusting to our new boxspring either.
It happened a few minutes ago, at 5:18 p.m. JT. Since Alain was still at work, I was alone upstairs sorting laundry when suddenly, everything was seriously jiggling wobbling rocking. I rushed downstairs while immediately beginning to hyperventilate. I dove under the kitchen table, as the safety pamphlets recommend, and tried to control my breathing while thinking, "This is scarier than I thought it would be."
Then I remembered that you're supposed to prop open your front door before taking cover so I dashed out and did so and then dashed back under, where I remained whimpering, even after it had stopped. A minute or two passed and then the phone rang.
I was afraid to get out from under the table because I wasn't positive it was the actual earthquake that I'd just experienced. What if that was a fore-shock/advance tremor and the real one was still to come? (I apparently haven't read enough about earthquakes.) If that was the case, I thought to myself, it was going to be a doozy.
I dashed out nonetheless to grab the phone in the den. It was Alain, as I had suspected, and he laughed when he heard my breathless hysteria. I told him that I had been under the table and he was happy to hear it. I neglected to ask if he had been under his desk. When I told him I was afraid it wasn't over, he reassured me that it was. And then I was laughing too (incidentally, laughing helps relieve hyperventilation). Apparently the fore-shock, or whatever the hell it's called, happens seconds before the actual tremors. So in other words, it was over. This time. Dunh-dunh, dunh... she said, mischievously.
It's all good people. Laugh with me!
Namely the thing we've been expecting (and have several times imagined was happening whilst lying in bed at night). Things were shaking just now and it wasn't just us adjusting to our new boxspring either.
It happened a few minutes ago, at 5:18 p.m. JT. Since Alain was still at work, I was alone upstairs sorting laundry when suddenly, everything was seriously jiggling wobbling rocking. I rushed downstairs while immediately beginning to hyperventilate. I dove under the kitchen table, as the safety pamphlets recommend, and tried to control my breathing while thinking, "This is scarier than I thought it would be."
Then I remembered that you're supposed to prop open your front door before taking cover so I dashed out and did so and then dashed back under, where I remained whimpering, even after it had stopped. A minute or two passed and then the phone rang.
I was afraid to get out from under the table because I wasn't positive it was the actual earthquake that I'd just experienced. What if that was a fore-shock/advance tremor and the real one was still to come? (I apparently haven't read enough about earthquakes.) If that was the case, I thought to myself, it was going to be a doozy.
I dashed out nonetheless to grab the phone in the den. It was Alain, as I had suspected, and he laughed when he heard my breathless hysteria. I told him that I had been under the table and he was happy to hear it. I neglected to ask if he had been under his desk. When I told him I was afraid it wasn't over, he reassured me that it was. And then I was laughing too (incidentally, laughing helps relieve hyperventilation). Apparently the fore-shock, or whatever the hell it's called, happens seconds before the actual tremors. So in other words, it was over. This time. Dunh-dunh, dunh... she said, mischievously.
It's all good people. Laugh with me!
Comments:
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Postscript: Alain just registered us at an Earthquake Simulation Centre for some training. Apparently, amongst other training activities, you spend 20 min. in a room where they simulate a 7! (Yesterday's was a 3). Yikes...
Hi Carol,
Don't be scared, they are not that bad when they are more often. You will get used to them soon, because you will have to deal with it very, very often. A 4.8 on Richter scale is almost nothing. Starting 5.5 becomes unpleasant and over 6 becomes dangerous. I know very well this because in Romania we have a earthquake center in the mountains curve. The best place is not under the table, we were taught that the best place is on the door frame. The first error people do is to go down stairs. The stairs are the first to fell down and the rest of the building may remain intact.
So, stay calm, wait in the door frame until it finishes and that's it.
Good luck and cheers!
:-)
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Don't be scared, they are not that bad when they are more often. You will get used to them soon, because you will have to deal with it very, very often. A 4.8 on Richter scale is almost nothing. Starting 5.5 becomes unpleasant and over 6 becomes dangerous. I know very well this because in Romania we have a earthquake center in the mountains curve. The best place is not under the table, we were taught that the best place is on the door frame. The first error people do is to go down stairs. The stairs are the first to fell down and the rest of the building may remain intact.
So, stay calm, wait in the door frame until it finishes and that's it.
Good luck and cheers!
:-)
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