Another Time

This is scary, I thought, as the nurse stepped out of the cubicle.  This can't be. Why now? There were so many better times for this crisis. The green curtain swirled as someone walked by, ballooned out then back in. A brief glimpse of a gurney and a tiny old lady hooked to IVs loudly protesting that she is fine and wants to go home. Elevator doors opening and closing and then silence except for the EKG machine humming, clicking and spitting out the long thin white strip of paper with the lines on it, and the soft murmurings of the staff at the E.R. desk. He opens his eyes and says through a moment free from pain, I'm sorry about this. It's ok! I say we'll get through this. We always do. His eyes close and I pray he is about to nod off to sleep. My thoughts though have nothing to do with what I say. My thoughts are total chaos, a jumble of fears all tumbling around inside my head. 1

I sit in that uncomfortable little chair with it's brownish, green vinyl seat and back and I really just want to scream at God for what is happening at this moment. Actually for all of the moments in these last years in which we had slowly lost everything that we had worked so hard for most all of our lives. I want to scream to the heaven's that We are to old to start over again. But I don't do that, because I realize that he is watching me through shuttered eyes. I can not drop my phony mask of confidence because it could make him feel worse. And although I'm going insane from the chaotic thoughts I will not let him see because I do not want to hurt him.  I sit and let my mask hide my fears until I realize that his breathing is even and rythemic.  I lean on my elbows on my knees and wish I could go outside for a smoke. But I don't want to miss the Doctor when he comes by.  I wonder if this is just a dream and that the alarm will go off soon and I'll be awake and everything will be fine.  Then in he comes blowing into the room like a small wind funnel.  He says his name and asks my husband some questions totally ignoring me as he jots down his notes.  Well he says the nitro we gave you earlier seems to have eased the pain sir.  But I want to keep you for observation and some more tests.  Who is your regular Doctor? I noticed that you didn't put anyone on your paperwork.  My husband tells him as we had earlier told them at the desk that he doesn't have a regular Doctor.  Well surely you have seen someone here in town? The doctor says and then turns to me and gives me a sardonic look.  Not really I say actually the only Doctor we've ever been to is the one our company has as their Doctor who does D.O.T. physicals.  My husband hasn't been to a Doctor since he was maybe 10 years old. He just never gets sick.  I see, the doctor says, well just use that Doctor as your physician for now. And like the wind funnel that blew in he is gone and we are alone again waiting.2

 3

My husband has dozed again and then the nurse comes in to take another blood sample and tells us that they are preparing a room and that he'll be moved shortly.  So we wait again.  And I still feel like my brain is about to explode.  It's ok though because at least we know for sure that he will be admitted and maybe we will find out exactly what caused the excruciating pain that pushed him to have me drive him to the hospital.  Please let it be anything but his heart I mumble under my breath as we are escorted into the elevator and go to the third floor.  As I walk beside the gurney I glance up at the clock on the wall and it reads 3:45 am.  It seems like it should be later than that.  As I enter the room  I remember another time, another place, and another person at an early hour a life time before now.  4

As the nurse settles him into his bed, I try not to remember that time so many years ago. The time in my life that changed how I would perceive my life and that would set me on a course of negativity that pervades my whole existence today.   That day was when my mom actually my grandmother who raised me passed away and I was thrown into the brutal world without warning.  The day I learned that I wasn't as loved by my family as I had thought.  The day I learned that God didn't have a sense of humor.  I was nine and she had been my whole world.  Now she was gone and a darkness surrounded me that would never leave me.  I was confused and there was no one who cared enough to let me know that it was ok to be scared. No one but resentful family members who didn't like me because my grandmother had given up two of her own children but had then taken me in when my mom and dad couldn't or wouldn't take care of me.  Family that went to our home and took everything that belonged to my grandmother  while we gone because they didn't think I deserved to have any of her personal stuff.  Now that I am older I can kind of understand but the hurt is still there, although buried for these many years.  But I digress the important thing is that my husband is now resting and I can breathe easier just knowing that he is in a Doctor's care and that they will find out this problem and make it right.