The Things We Do for Those We Love

We took our grandson, Gabe, to Scheels recently. We had heard that it was a fun place to visit--and it was. Bears and guns and games and fish. Lots of things to see and do--and the ferris wheel in the middle of it all. Of course we had to take a ride. I have issues with heights, but I thought it would be okay. After all, this was inside. How high could this ferris wheel be? It would be okay.

And it was, for a few turns around. We'd move up slightly and then stop while someone else climbed into a seat. We would go around and then pause for another person to get off. At first, we never stopped at the top, but after the seats were filled and we had made several turns around, each time with my stomach getting more and more unsettled, the controller started stopping at intervals to let people off. And he did this one at a time, so that we stopped about half-way up, then a little higher, then higher, and finally at the very top. And then the same slow descent--stopping at each posting.

As we were in the spot just before the very top, I realized I was having symptoms of a panic attack.But I had my grandson with me, so I couldn't lose it! He mentioned being nervous, so I said, all brave, "Oh, no. Nothing to be scared of. Just look around. What can we see out the windows, on the roof?"!! I was doing everything I could to keep from looking down, to keep from realizing where I was. My knees felt shaky. My stomach was twisting. I felt hot and out of breath. Gabe immediately calmed at my words and started twisting in the seat to look behind us--causing the seat to swing a bit. "Let's sit still," I said calmly, even though I wanted to scream it. "Oh, look, we're starting to go down now," I said, ostensibly to reassure him when it was really for me. That trip down seemed to take forever. When it was finally our turn to get off, I wasn't sure my legs would carry me.
David asked me how it was. In a whisper, I told him, "I will never do that again! It took all my self-control not to start screaming up there." I am sorry for all my other grandchildren: I'm really afraid I won't be able to make myself do it again. You may have to ride with someone else. I will make you lots of cookies to make up for it. I promise.