From time to time I get to thinking about my life mathematically. That is to say, I think of my age and figure out how old I was half my life ago. Then I try to determine what type of things I was probably doing. Well, about half my life ago was October, 1989. I was a freshman in college. And for some strange reason one morning on my way down the elevator to get some milk to put in my cereal for breakfast I passed out and hit my head. (True story). I was out for, at most, two seconds. I was in the elevator with another guy from on the hall. I don't remember his name, but I do remember that he was definitely one the nicest guys on the hall. If my memory serves correctly, I believe he was in the army reserves. (Not important for the story). He helped off the elevator and into a seat in the cafeteria on the ground floor of the dorm. He asked I was OK, I said I was, and so he left for class. A second later he was there and said he was taking me to the infirmary in the dorm. What actually happened was that he went out to catch the bus but could still see me through the window. He told me that I still didn't look too good so he felt he had to help me, he would just have to be late for class. The EMTs in the infirmary called an ambulance and took me over to the main infirmary on the other campus.
I was in the infirmary a week. Blood drawn twice a day. Though I felt fine, I was not allowed out of bed for fear that I may pass out again and hit my head. I went days without a shower, no change of clothes, no toiletries. All the while no body could tell me what had happened. (To this day I have no idea what caused that episode - but I have an idea, though Michelle would disagree). My roommates finally brought me a few changes of clothes and my toiletries. After a week, I still had no answers, neither did the doctors. I made an executive decision - I'm getting out of here. The nurses reluctantly allowed me to check myself out, and my roommate Eric (I think his name was) drove me to the hospital to try and get to the bottom of what happened. I was seen in the ER, blood tests were done, I was checked for an ulcer (I was not expecting that, very uncomfortable) - still nothing.
My parents decided that I was to come home, but I could not just fly by myself, the doctors at the infirmary did not clear me to fly (as if I was going to be the pilot or something) unless someone traveled with me. My father got airline tickets for himself and me from their good friends Terry Costello (a travel agent at the time). At this time I felt fine, 100%. I tooled around Freeport for a week since my parents were planning to drive up to Buffalo for parents/homecoming weekend. But that week in between was one of the most important of my life.
I spent a lot of time hanging out at the high school, especially in the band office with Mr. Turner and Mr. Koski. Students would come in and out, and as seems to be the case everywhere, students like hanging out in the band office with their band teachers. One such student was Michelle. Now, we knew who each other were even though she was two years (I guess she still is) younger than I, but we never really knew each other or hung out or anything. But hanging out in the band office we got to know each other quite a bit. In fact this was the week when we began to date for the first time even though I left to go back to UB at the end of the week.
People will say that everything happens for a reason, but I know that my passing out that day without a medical reason was so I could meet Michelle. And today, here we are 18 and half years later (half my life later) happily married, with an awesome son. I guess I was pretty lucky to pass out and hit my head that day, half my life ago.
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