I've heard the expression "floored" in at least two different circumstances. One was when a person has received stunning and unexpected news, and reacts by saying, "I was just floored when I heard that!" The idea of being floored also applies in the sport of boxing, when one takes a punch that lands him on the floor. I can't say that either thing has happened to me, but two weeks ago I discovered another way to be floored, when my heart evidently decided just not to beat for a few seconds.
We had gone out for breakfast.
I had been interested in a big pancake for breakfast. But as we got into the car I noticed that I felt a bit queasy, and I was thinking of changing my menu choice. As we walked across the floor in the restaurant, I suddenly felt chilled and faint, so I started to tell my wife that I wasn't feeling well and should probably sit down. Evidently before I got that said, I blacked out, and went to the floor. I have no memory whatsoever of falling, but when I woke up a few moments later, I remember having a short, pleasant dream, and then opening my eyes to find that I was lying on the floor. Rick Whitaker had been sitting just a few feet away, and he was attending to me and checking me out. Then, in what seemed like only a minute, the Pea Ridge ambulance crew was there and they were moving me to the ambulance. At first they thought I had hit my head on a booth seat as I fell, but we never found a sore spot on my head. We think I hit the booth with my shoulder blade, and that cushioned the fall, thank the Lord! A scrape on the shoulder seems much better than a cracked head!
After a stay of several days in the hospital, and quite a battery of tests and procedures, I have ended up with an additional stent in one artery of my heart, and with a heart pacemaker to keep my heart rate and blood pressure from dropping too low. So far, so good.
When I had a heart attack in November of 2010, I remember that our Pea Ridge ambulance and paramedics were there very quickly, and did several things to help stabilize me and protect my heart. But at that time they had to transfer me to the Bentonville Ambulance so that an EKG could be done and a diagnosis reached, and the emergency room and heart cath lab at the hospital could be alerted and prepared for our arrival. The ambulances met just south of Jac's Ranch on Arkansas Highway 72, and I was wheeled from one ambulance into the other right beside the highway. I was thinking at the time, wouldn't it be great if our Pea Ridge Ambulance and crew could be outfitted to do all this? Shortly after, I was pleased to learn that preparations were already in the works to accomplish that very thing, and I believe as of March this year, our Pea Ridge Ambulance and paramedics now provide Advanced Life Support services. I'm very grateful that our hometown guys are now able to take care of us at that level, and that they have the technologies, knowledge, emergency medicines and communications to help out when episodes like mine occur. I don't think I was the first to need those advanced services, but I was one of the first to be helped by them.
I recall that in the early part of my life, in the 1940s and 1950s, there was no local ambulance, except for the hearse at the funeral home. If you were unable to go to the hospital by car, you could hire the hearse to carry you there. It was like having a taxi with a bed, and your paramedic was the undertaker. Those were some of the old days that I don't care to return to.
I'm reminded of General Franz Sigel, an artillery commander with the Union Army at the time of the Battle of Pea Ridge. Just before the battle, in early March of 1862, General Sigel and some of his men were in Bentonville, and the general was having breakfast at the old Eagle Hotel. Suddenly one of his lieutenants rushed in, warning him that the town was filling up with Rebs. The Confederate Army was advancing from Fayetteville. The general and his Union contingent hurriedly left Bentonville, barely avoiding being trapped in town by the Confederates. A few days later, he and his artillery would play a decisive role in repelling the Confederate attack at Elkhorn Tavern. As the story goes, several years after the war, General Sigel returned to Bentonville, announcing that he had come back to finish his breakfast, so rudely interrupted back in 1862.
I'll have to do that myself, go back to the Blackhawk to finish the breakfast I didn't get to order. I think I'll have a big pancake and a cup of coffee.
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Editor's note: Jerry Nichols, a native of Pea Ridge, is an award-winning columnist, a retired Methodist minister with a passion for history. He is vice president of the Pea Ridge Historical Society.
Editorial on 04/23/2014