Turtle medicine, against all odds

A day out in the weekend is not that obvious if you work in tourism in Turkey, so it was relatively priceless that we could manage to escape that Sunday to turtle island, as we called Dalyan.

I was living in Turkey, with a toddler of two running all over the place and we would visit my friend and her lover. At the crack of dawn we grabbed sun lotion, nappy’s and drinks and hopped in the car before anyone would stop us.
There is a peer nearby the pond, where you can see the turtles swim if you are lucky, so we strolled in that direction, me keeping one eye on our son. But as it was the rare occasion that his father could spend some quality time with him, I kept my distance to give him the joy he so often missed out on due his workload as GM of the hotel we lived in as well. Because he was the 24/7 outdoor worker of the family, and we would usually only see each other from a distance, have a quick breakfast or share a rare dinner together.

The pond is black, no clear water, so all but me sat down to stare and look for turtles, while our son had his own idea of fun and started to throw stones in the water.
His father was right next to him, our friends sat as close by as one meter, and I stood approx 3 meter away, enjoying the view and the scenery of friends and family together. Utterly relaxed.

And then everything changed. In a split second I saw my son falling into the black water, and I, immediately realizing that I would absolutely pass him if I would dive. So I jumped the full distance, at the same time realising I was wearing my contacts, and that the chances to see under water was next to zero, but once in the water I opened my eyes anyway. To see indeed only murky water and no child, so I closed them again.
Movies, movies. Movies came into my mind. That people who fall in the water come up to the surface before they drown, and I opened my hand to where something in me expected his head to pop up. Head under water I was, did not come up to breathe. Closed eyes and waiting, wondering why nobody else was in the water. Waiting. Silence.
And there it happened, the head, his head, pushing my right hand up, and I grabbed him and lifted him up, to the surface and above. In one movement turning towards the peer and stretching out high to the hands of his father reaching down to us, who grabbed him.
My eyes wide open now in such a state of 100% controlled awareness I have only lived once before, at his birth. My being screaming only one thing: Is he alive?
And yes he was. He did not even have water in his lungs, did not appear shocked, had a stone in his other hand, which with a sudden stretch he threw in that same murky water, before they got me out and him on his way to the shower.
Nobody had seen him falling, my husband recalled being shocked as why the hell I was jumping in the water. My back would hurt for another 6+ months but God did I care? No way.