Frequently Asked Questions

          Some might overrate consciousness, but I miss it now. Since I was out completely, deep in a dark, bottomless chasm before I hit the floor, some of my comments may seem jumbled now. 

 As a point of reference, I had worked my way up from a teenage boatyard worker through a career in the industry to a middle-aged yacht broker. It's the same as a realtor but with boats. It is not physically hard work but a lot of demanding office work on the computer. The best part of the job was meeting clients, test running boats, and the occasional delivery. 

That morning, as I began this story, I remember having a cup in my left hand and a half pot of coffee in my right. I had walked one hundred feet from my office to the communal break room. Certainly not far enough to be so desperately out of breath, but I was. The first indication of trouble was the tiny white lights dancing around my decreasing field of vision. I remembered those lights from my amateur boxing days, but even the most powerful blow never knocked me out. Now, I realize I was going down and possibly out. 

I was unsure if I poured the coffee, but I tried to get the pot back onto the coffee machine, but I am unsure if I did. My last conscious was to escape the break room’s hard tile floor, but I never made it.

           It was like turning off a light switch, a little click, then nothing. In retrospect, it would be an excellent way to expire, but I did not immediately. Not knowing how dying should proceed, my mind searched for the bottom, but there wasn’t one. My mind tried to crawl out of whatever abyss I had fallen. Initially, I had no luck. Not sure which direction up was because everything was as black as night except the floating white lights. I assumed I was dying; why wouldn’t I?