Terran wakes blind on a forest floor and finds his brother River injured and unconscious. As he panics, he uses breathing techniques and his knowledge of dark adaptation to stay calm while trying to help River regain consciousness.
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It was the needles pressing painfully into.
His cheeks that woke him.
Terran slowly regained consciousness. His mind began humming, sensing and scanning. His first realization was that his head was pressed firmly against the ground, mashed up hard against what felt like some kind of dense debris on the forest ground. He could smell the unmistakable scent of evergreen and knew the sharp pinpricks against his face were pine needles. His second realization was that his legs were incredibly stiff and felt bruised, as though he'd fallen from a great height to land where he lay motionless on the ground. And finally he realized that everything was dark.
Very, very dark.
Terran's first thought was that he must be inside the dark shed. He knew that normally when a human steps outside from the light into the darkness, such as one might do on a winter's evening when venturing away from a well lit home to go on an evening walk, eyes gradually become accustomed to the darkness. In his science book, he'd read about carrots and night vision. Along with night vision, photoreceptors in the eyes called rods. These rods act as light detectors even in the presence of extremely low levels of illumination, and are able to respond to a tiny, single visible photon of light in a dim environment. Through a process known as dark adaptation, these rods slowly increase their sensitivity to light. But if a human has a shortage of beta carotene found in orange foods like squash, yams and carrots, this mechanism that allows for dark adaptation is inhibited. And so, for the very same reason that he practiced owl eyes and fox walking, Terran had lately been very careful.
To eat his carrots.
So he lay there, eyes wide open, waiting for dark adaptation to slowly set in, waiting to see where he was. Listening, watching, smelling and sensing her brother, River. But everything remained black. He raised himself up to one elbow. He couldn't see a single shadow. Not a tree, not the outline of a bush.
Nothing.
He looked up towards the sky. No stars.
No moon. No light.
He'd heard of people fainting, passing out, even getting their head hurt in a way that caused blackouts.
Was this a blackout?
He'd never lost consciousness before, never lost sensation of time. This was a completely new phenomenon, and.
He wasn't quite sure what was normal.
River.
He harshly whispered, not quite sure why he was whispering.
It just felt like the right thing.
To do in the complete darkness.
No reply.
River.
This time he said it in a louder, monotone voice. Riv. He shouted. Still no reply. Terran propped himself up on both hands, then into a crawling position. It still seemed so strange that it was so dark. So black. Normally, even at night, he'd be able to see just a faint outline of a tree, a bush, a star, something. He crawled forward. Thunk. His head immediately bumped into something very hard. He reached forward and felt it. The rough bark of a tree was unmistakable. Eyes wide open, he shoved his face forward until his nose was touching the tree.
He could still see nothing, not even.
The shadow of the tree.
With a growing sense of dread, Terran slowly came to a stark realization. Between the ground debris, the tree and the scent of pine, it was impossible that he was indoors, in some kind.
Of a blacked out room or a shed. And it was never this dark outdoors. Ever.
Even the darkest night of camping, with the thickest possible cloud cover, he'd always.
Been able to at least see a shadow. He was blind.
Terran struggled to his feet, steadying himself with one hand on the tree. He stood there for a moment, wavering and trying to find some kind of equilibrium. Then he took a step forward and immediately stumbled over a large, soft object. Oof. He slammed into the ground with both legs tangled on whatever he'd just tripped over, he reached behind to feel the object underneath him.
It was warm and covered in cloth.
He kept feeling. There was skin, bone, an arm.
Hair.
He knew this hair.
River.
Eyes still wide open but unable to see anything, Terran grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook the motionless body.
River?
No reply. Terran began sobbing tears from his lifeless eyes and buried his head into the body beneath him.
River, wake up. Wake up. Please wake up. Wake up.
With clenched fists, Terran beat his brother back once, twice, three times. Confused, dazed and frustrated, he stood up, bent down, grabbed River's two muddy pant legs and tugged ferociously. River's limp body slid a few inches towards Terran as he simultaneously shook and pulled, hoping that something, anything would wake his brother. But his hands slipped and he stumbled backwards, landing violently on his back, his sightless eyes directed at the sky. Breathing heavily, Terran rolled over, staggered to his feet and rushed towards river again. Thud. Another tree. No, the same one. Terran's shoulder exploded with a sharp pain as he ricocheted off the tree and stumbled again, this time face, mouth and teeth forward, slamming into the dirt. Then he lay there, his shoulder throbbing.
He could taste a warm stream of.
Salty blood pooling in the left corner of his mouth. For nearly a minute, he took heaving, panicked breaths.
Slow down. A sane corner of Terran's brain silently spoke. Breathe. Yes, breathe.
Terran knew how to calm his heart. He knew how to calm his body, how to calm his nervous system as.
He lay there in a crumpled heap. He slowly took a breath in for a count of four.
One, two, three.
Four. And he held his breath.
One, two, three, four.
Slowly exhaled.
One, two, three, four. He held again. One, two, three.
Father had taught him this technique long ago after Terran had stepped on a rusty nail in the yard. The technique was called box breathing. Terran remembered Father staring deep into his.
Blue eyes, cradling Terran's bleeding foot in.
His hands and gently wiping away a tear as he spoke in a deep, quiet voice. Breathe, Terran.
Breathe in. Hold out.
Hold on. Gently breathe into one side of the box. Hold your breath lightly across the top of the box. Gently breathe down the other side of the box. Hold your breath lightly across the bottom of the box.
1, 2, 3. 1, 2. 1, 2, 3.
Someone half grown and half coughed.
Terran's head shot up and he instantly.
Scrambled to all fours. The sound had come from the direction of River's body.
Terran frantically pushed both hands out in front of him, sweeping the forest ground as he crawled towards the sound. Terran's hands found River's body.
River.
River.
River.
River, can you hear me?
Very long pause. Yeah. River groaned. My head hurts. Terran crouched over his brother's body and ran his hand through Brother's soft blond hair.
River still lay on his back on the ground, but Terran could feel his.
Brother'S warm body rising up and down with breath, heartbeat, life.
My head hurts too, Brother.
There was complete silence for a moment. Terran lay his head on River's chest. River wrapped his arm around Terran and pulled him close, pressing their cheeks together. A warm tear of relief dripped from Terran's eyes. River, you're alive.
River grunted annoyingly. Of course I'm alive.
I'm surprised you're alive. When you followed that bird into the shed, it looked like your whole body caught on fire or something. You should have seen the shed light up. It was nuts. It was totally nuts.
Terran felt river release his embrace and roll slightly over, shifting onto his side and propping himself up on one arm, still hurriedly talking.
Where the heck are we? What happened to your face?
How come?
Ah.
River suddenly groaned in pain.
What, brother? River groaned.
Ugh.
My leg.
Get off.
Get off. Oh dang.
Terran straightened up and sat back, taking his weight off his brother and wiping the tears off his cheek with one hand.
What's wrong, Riv? You could hear river fumbling with the.
Pant leg, then pulling, rolling up fabric, then groaning again.
Ah, did I break this Terran, did I break this?
Look.
Terran, does this look broken?
Terran was very quiet.
Terran, you're not even looking. It's right here. Right here.
Terran felt helpless. He awkwardly fumbled for words.
River, I can't.
His voice trailed off.
What? Terran, look at me.
Why aren't you looking at me?
Terran shifted his head towards the sound of River's voice. He reached his arm out and felt for Brother's shoulders. He put his hands around River's neck. Then he pulled himself close.
Turn.
Felt river wince slightly in pain. But he couldn't help himself, and he couldn't hold back. He had to tell his brother. He lay his head on River's shoulder and began sobbing.
Season 2 | Episode 85 | Kamusta ka? -- Cultural diversity in therapy, athletic performance, and all things RT with Marriage and Family Therapy Associate, Kim Agramon-Bai
