Diaries I Read:
Sorry if this is boring. It helps me to write it, get it out.
DAY 1
They rushed him into the emergency room and, soon after, escorted me out. They took me to a little tiny waiting room, with no TV and no magazines of the slightest interest, and told me to wait. I waited. And slowly went out of my mind.
I sat by myself in that dark room and thought all kinds of terrible thoughts. I called my parents and freaked out. I prayed. I sobbed uncontrollably.
A man called �Chaplain Tom� stopped by periodically to give me updates.
- I�m sorry, they had to cut his shirt off of him.
- They�re doing X-rays right now.
- They took off his wedding band and put it in a safe in the ER.
- Would you like some water or coffee or something?
- The trauma nurse here is Donna, who I understand the two of you met on your honeymoon in Hawaii. She said she�d come talk to you.
- Now they�re doing CAT scans.
- He wants you to call his parents and tell them what�s happened.
- His doctor�s name is Dr. Curcio.
- They tell me the X-rays and CAT scan are negative. That�s good.
- He�s going to spend the night in ICU.
I have no idea how long I was in that little waiting room, but it felt like four hours. It was awful. The doctor came by. I called B�s parents � his mom sounded surprisingly unalarmed. Nurse Donna came by. I did remember her. We�d met in the hotel in Maui and we�d gone to a show and snorkeling together. She has giant boobs. It was a relief to see a somewhat familiar face. I called our pastor and reached his daughter, left a message that B was in the hospital.
Then they let me see him. He was flat on his back with a cervical collar keeping him awkwardly still. I lost it when I saw him. He told me not to cry.
They took him to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit because there wasn�t any room in the other one. On the way, they slammed his gurney into the wall twice. B was in good spirits, able to laugh about it.
They wouldn�t let me go inside the room, led me to another waiting room. This one was bigger, had a TV. A family was there, watching a show in Spanish. I resented that.
They came and got me and let me into the room. His nurse�s name was Maria-Elaine but went by Elaine. I sat next to him and touched his hand. He winced and said not to touch his hands or arms, they hurt. It was OK to touch his shoulder but not as comforting to me. He was in a hospital gown with little blue lines all over it. He was wired and hooked up to several computer monitors � I could watch his heart beat, read his pulse rate and blood oxygen level.
I don�t know what we talked about. Maybe we just sat there. Every now and then, a tear would roll down his cheek and I�d wipe it off. I wiped my own tears and snot on the sleeve of whoever�s sweatshirt I was wearing.
Then our pastor, Andy, showed up. He sat with us for a while. It was a relief to have him there. I don�t know what he said. He prayed with us. More tears slid down B�s face.
Andy drove me home so I could change my clothes and get my car. We talked about the Easter service coming up. He asked if he could tell the congregation about B the next day.
I walked into the house and couldn�t think straight. I knew I needed to eat something. Change my clothes. Gather some things to take back to the hospital. I put a WW ravioli meal in the microwave. Grabbed my toothbrush and a book. Put on sweats. Called the neighbors about taking care of Dixie. Put some food in Hondo�s bowl.
When I got back to the hospital, our friend Sandra called. I had called to let our running buddies know we weren�t running the next day, and the news had traveled. She said she was coming by with two other friends. It felt late and I was surprised they�d make the trip at that time.
I hadn�t expected how nice it would be to have visitors. They tried to make the situation lighter, commenting on all the equipment in the room and how nice the hospital was.
I finally used the restroom and saw myself in the mirror. My eyes were bright pink. I hadn�t realized how awful I looked.
When we were alone again, B dozed a little. I tried to get comfortable in the chair. I read for a while. Elaine told me I could sleep in the waiting room outside and come back whenever I wanted.
At about 1:00 am, I finally went to the waiting room with a pillow and a blanket and curled up on a tiny couch. I slept until about 5:00.
DAY 2
They wouldn�t let B eat. They said he had to be ready in case he had to have surgery. They said we had to wait til the doctor came to see him. The nurse had to make me go down to the cafeteria to eat.
I sat in the cafeteria by myself, eating oatmeal. I called my aunt and spewed the news to her, blubbered that I didn�t know what to do with myself. She said she had to teach a Sunday School class but she�d be over as soon as she could.
They said he�d have an MRI later that day to see if there was damage to his spinal cord. Until then, he had to stay in bed, flat, with the cervical collar on. He couldn�t even see the TV. On the ceiling above the bed were leaves etched into the tiles.
Sometime mid-morning, they said he wasn�t going to have the MRI until the next day. He was devastated because that meant another 24 hours of lying flat on his back. He told me to start calling in the troops, he was going to need company to help pass the time.
I started calling people. �B had a trampoline accident and he�s in the hospital�� I repeated the story so many times it exhausted me.
The doctor called in and the nurse got permission to give B food. The first thing he asked for was coffee. They brought in a tray with an amazingly bland blueberry muffin, French toast, and strawberries. I cut things up into small pieces and fed them to B. He drank coffee and diet Shasta cola through a straw.
Visitors started filing in. Some were our best friends, some I was a little surprised to see. One I�d never met before.
Then the doctor breezed in � the long-awaited Dr. Palmer. He was very unattractive, with black-rimmed glasses and a painfully pronounced cleft in his chin. He took the cervical collar off of B and let him sit up. I thought B might kiss him.
More visitors came, stayed a while, left. They said they were moving B out of ICU and down to the regular floor. They put a �more comfortable� cervical collar on him. They let him get out of bed and walk to the wheelchair. My aunt said she had to try not to cry when she saw him walk.
We moved to the other room. It was bigger, had a chair that stretched out into a little cot. After he got settled, I headed home to check on the animals, take a shower, pick up some more supplies for the hospital stay.
When I got back and got off the elevator, they were wheeling B out of the room on his bed. He was headed for the MRI that day after all. He had tears in his eyes. �What�s wrong?! Why are you crying?� He told me it was just something our friend Danielle had said when she prayed with him before he left.
They put B in an ambulance to drive him across the parking lot (!) to the MRI center. They put him into the machine, gave me ear plugs, said it would take about two hours. I curled up on the chair in the MRI room and dozed off.
The attendant came into the room and said there were visitors in the waiting room. I went out to see four of our running friends plus my brother and his girlfriend there. They had brought In & Out hamburgers and ice cream. I scarfed down a hamburger and vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup.
After a while, they left and I went back to the MRI room and my comfy chair. When it was over, they drove us back across the parking lot to the hospital.
All in all, we must have had 30 people come through to see B that day. Another had brought an In & Out burger for him while he�d been having the MRI, and it was stone cold by the time he had a chance to eat it.
The day lasted a week, even though all the visitors did make the time go by a bit faster. Around 9 pm, I went to Chili�s to pick up dinner and molten chocolate cake. I fixed up my little chair-cot and was able to sleep for a few hours.
Working at home - Wednesday, Nov. 17, 2004
Toronto - Tuesday, Nov. 16, 2004
On the way to Toronto... - Tuesday, Nov. 09, 2004
A Good Day - Monday, Nov. 08, 2004
Another letter - Thursday, Nov. 04, 2004