She Was Me

She drove with an awareness of speed and a mind carrying on two extensively involved conversations at the same time. There was no time for tears. There was no time for pause. Only go. Be swift and focused. She ran traffic lights and disregarded other late night travelers trusting their fate was covered in the same hands holding her.

“Hey Babe, can you hear me? We are almost there. Just hang on.”

“God, he is yours first and you know what is going on better than anyone else. Please help me get him to help. Please clear the road and keep other’s safe in my pathway.”

She pulled into the ER drop off slinging his limp body against the door. As she rounded the front of the car, the first lump entered her throat as one of his best friend’s ran to meet her.

“We are going to have to carry him inside. He is lucid and covered in vomit.”

“I’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

An observant nurse brought out a wheelchair seeing their train wreck, so she turned to run back to the car so she could perform the civic responsibility of at least putting her car in an actual parking spot.

“HEY! I’ve got the car. You come be with your husband.”

So she grabbed her purse and sprinted back to his side and escorted him straight back into admission. He was angry, irritable, irrational, and unaware of anyone or anything familiar including his bride.

Unlike times before, the nurse seemed to know they were in serious danger, so she allowed the wife the freedom to have access to both her arms. Instead, the nurse asked her the most important questions on the admission pages and left the rest to be assumed or filled out as the evening progressed. She rattled off the meds he had taken into his body that day, including the intravenous anti fungal she had just finished administering in their den.

He was sweating profusely and straining with every ounce of strength he had to get up out of the chair. The fight would stop long enough for his body to convulse and purge once more.

Immediately, they were surrounded by several large male nurses who greeted her with very calm faces. Their aggressive actions did not convey the same. She was too focused on soothing his agitated state to even be aware of when the first nurse ran for help.

Within seconds he was on an ER bed with a doctor already present. There were no less than 4 attendants present to help as he was becoming more and more restless and combative.

Then there was another body standing next to her. The next lump tried to climb up her throat. His other best friend had flown to the hospital to take over where the other friend had left off. His timing was impeccable as her ability to hold him down while they cut all of his clothes off was nearly impossible.

She continued to speak to him so he could hear a voice he knew.
She watched the thermometer reach 108.
She watched them tie him to the bed while his friend pinned him down.
She watched them cover him in ice.
She watched them rip the PICC line out of his arm and throw it in the trash. Third lump.
She watched him fade.
She prayed again.

“God, he was yours first. You have allowed me this time with him as a gift. If it be your will, take him, but PLEASE, don’t let him suffer.”

The second friend attempted to put an arm around her and she stepped away. Touch = tears. There is no time for that. There are still actions and decisions to make. She knew the doctor needed her to keep it together so she could make rational decisions.

“We are going to need to do an X-Ray and MRI to see if we can identify the cause of the fever. You will not be able to go with him due to your condition,” the doctor said.

She looked down at her burgeoning belly. Fourth lump.

They wheeled him away unconscious down the hall to the radiation area. A male nurse looked up at her with eyes that could not say, “it’s going to be ok.”

The doors closed and it was then she let that second friend envelop her like a bear. The fifth lump won. She quietly sobbed and he said nothing as there were no words to say because the truth was uncertain.

She was me.