Comfort from Cats Anonymous

As soon as my sister and I had settled into the back of the ambulance, I pulled out my phone and opened the “Notes” app despite my dwindling battery—putting my thoughts down meant everything to me in that moment. I wrote:
Right now, I’m Schrödinger’s Cat: neither alive nor dead, simply floating in the limbo in between. It’s soothing, somehow: each time I feel tears pushing at corners of my eyes, I think about that paradox. I am nothing and something, weak and powerful all at once. Earlier, I heard one of the good Samaritans saying, “People just don’t realize the power of God. His divine will conquers all. This is one of His miracles.” I thought to myself, “Meh.”

My sister and I had been driving down the highway for a family vacation when she lost control. The car sped into the median at eighty mph, flipped twice, then veered into the opposing lanes before slamming against the guardrail. Several cars pulled over to help us, but we hardly needed it: both my sister and I walked away from the wreckage, our only injuries a sore shoulder and a chip in my nail polish.

When my we were reunited with our family, we found ourselves ambushed with questions.

“Were you scared?” asked our little cousin.

“I wasn’t,” I said. “Not when it was...