I stare blankly at the ceiling, just blinking. It feels like I am having an out of body experience. A few moments ago, the phone rang, and I got the worse news of my life. I shouldn’t have answered the phone. A few minutes ago, I was making plans with my coworkers to hit up a local sushi restaurant. I had sweet chili edamame and spicy tuna roll with a dab of wasabi on top on the brain and it was this close to being brought to fruition. Then the dreaded phone rang.
“Yes, this is she”
“This is Dr. Lau from the county hospital, I am afraid to inform you but your child has been in a major accident, she is currently in the pre-op and we need your consent to perform surgery, she has major internal bleeding around her heart which is causing pressure and is going into cardiac arrest off and on…Mrs. Daniels? Are you there?”
I held the phone and I am not sure how I did. I was searching for air. Looking for that breath that will allow me to speak. This can’t be happening. No, this is a joke.
“Ok, you guys got me. Ha Ha. This has gone too far now.”
“Excuse me? Mrs. Daniels, this is not a joke. How long before you get to the hospital. This is an emergency. Is there someone else who can make decisions on your behalf? I am very sorry, but we will do our best to help your daughter….”
I can’t believe what I was hearing. The man on the other line continued to talk but I couldn’t make what else he was saying. At this very moment, I feel everything around me slow down, like a scene straight out of the movies. People are walking up to my desk asking me questions about the recent data, my iPhone is buzzing with texts messages about finalizing lunch plans
(Girl! You ready to leave?! I’m starving!)
…Another message from a friend who is venting on his failing relationship with his partner
(I don’t know what else to tell her? I don’t see how her not wanting to have kids is ok? That’s not what we agreed on! She knows I want children! Why is she so selfish!!! I cant! What should I do? I love her… 😦 )
I can’t breath. Now, I sit in this chair and I am not sure when I dropped the phone. But I hear the doctor yelling my name in the faint background. My only child is hanging on for dear life. Since my husband passed six months ago, I have been barely making it and she has been my rock. I can’t lose her too.
I can’t breath.
I am not sure when I started yelling. I am not sure when I slipped my chair to the floor. I don’t remember it happening. I hear muffled voices all around me. Someone is saying my name repeatedly. I hear it, but I can’t find my voice to speak.
“I’m ok.” I whisper.
Why don’t they hear me?
“She is slipping out of consciousness! Someone grab an AED! Who is calling 911?”
Why are they yelling? I said I’m ok. No one can seem to hear me. Forget it. I am tired of fighting. I’m so tired. I’ll just close my eyes and envision Marcus. He is smiling at me. Home. I’ll just go home to my husband. He always knows what to do.