To be read with all the lights on and loved ones nearby. So, it was a cool, fall Sunday afternoon, and DH and I were getting some thing accomplished for my Art Room. I was just about to start painting the second, or the third coat of paint on this giant bookshelf. Perhaps I should have measured it to share the full effect, but that is too tedious, so I will try to create an image for you. Think about the width of an Scion Xb, and the height of my chest, when the bookshelf is propped up on sideways lying fenceposts (leftovers from Project Corgi Containment). I was preparing my area, a dimly light downstairs with minimal natural light at the time.
I thought, hey, this just needs to move over a little, so the one lightbulb could shine into the deep recesses of its cubbyholes (it was a bookshelf with 2 levels of shelves, and 2 levels of cubbys). And, then I was yelling. I think. Dh asked if it had landed on my foot. I said no, but really it had. It wasn't as if the whole shelf were sitting atop my foot. Then suddenly I felt warm and flushed, and as if I was about to throw up. I told him I was feeling sick, as I felt a crazy head rush. I told my psychologically trained self, don't faint, breather slowly from the gut, concentrate, focus, breathe. Then I remember being in a seated position with minimal hearing, and I felt my eyes were fully open but in a very blurry squinty way. I was drinking a bottle of water, very slowly, and in a daze while Dh nonchalantly painted another shelf.
I felt like my toe had been removed from my foot, when in actuality I had scraped the top layer of skin off the big toe, and it hurt a lot. Dh asked, didn't you remember saying 'I need to get up off the floor?" And I said, good thing I didn't pass out because I felt really sick. He told me he had caught me from falling, but knew I wasn't going to die, so he kept on painting. It was a very scary painting time with a very scary bookshelf. A bookshelf that still needs another coat or two of paint.