6:30 a.m. "Keep me posted on how things go at the appointment, love you."
6:40 a.m. Drive to work
7:30 a.m. Arrive at work
8:35 a.m. My students arrive
8:46 a.m. Phone rings:
"Hey, what's up?"
"Do you want to hang out with me for the day?"
"Huh, I hadn't planned on it" I legitimately thought he was joking with me.
"Well, I'd like you to come. They are sending me to the ER by ambulance. They won't let me drive. There was a problem on the EKG."
"Give me 15 minutes, and I'll be on my way."
8:59 a.m. Get in the car and drive.
I forgot my water on my lectern. My mouth is dry, and my stomach feels like it might turn inside out. I really wish I could sip on some water, but I don't have time to stop. I just have to get there.
9:55 a.m. Park the car
10:00 a.m. "Hi, who are you here to see?"
"My husband was just brought in by ambulance..."
"Okay, yes. Room 25. Go straight down this hallway to the end, turn left and it's on your right side."
I am so aware of my inability to focus that I am hyper-focused and I hear every direction, every sound, every conversation around me. Beeps echo like a slow-motion scene in a movie, and I stride with long steps to the end of the hall.
Time speeds up.
"Here, let me get you a chair."
Almost immediately I am told the EKG in the ER is fine. Bloodwork has already been done.
Wait.
Curtain.
"Hi, are you Shawn? Can you tell me your birthdate? I'm taking you for X-rays."
Loud bangs and jerks, the untangling of wires. We wave with little-unsettled grins, and he disappears down the hall.
On the floor is a single blue glove. Just there. Wasted. Hidden, now revealed.
I stare at it for a moment.
More time passes. All results are good. Atypical symptoms. Stress test ordered for later.
Like a wasted glove, I feel a bit lost.
Oh no! My heart is breaking right now for the day you have had. Take care of you, your husband, and anyone else who needs caring for. I've been there with my own husband. It's terrifying. Be well.
ReplyDeleteOh, you poor thing, Betsy! I'm relieved to hear that all is okay for now, but still a scary day in deed. I like how you connected the lost, lonely glove on the floor to how you are feeling. Bravo for thinking to take a picture in the moment. That one photo adds so much more to your writing. Continued prayers!
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry for your scare! Terrifying indeed! But the glove. I kept reading and reading and waiting for the lost glove connection...such a well-crafted slice that came from a terrible event. So interesting how life works, isn't it? Both of you take care and let me know if I can help any time!
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