October 31st is a notable day for many – Reformation Day and Halloween. After this year, October 31st with be one of those days that my family remembers with clarity what each of us was doing when we got The Call.
It was during lunchtime when I got The Call - Heather telling me she’d just heard from Dad. He and Mom were on the Southside when they were T-boned by a truck. He had called 911. The ambulance was there and they were taking Mom to the hospital – St. Francis South because that’s what she requested. She had just been there 2 hours ago for a routine appointment. Heather could hear Mom moaning in the background. That’s all she knew. We talked briefly about whether or not we should go down. She was halfway through her biggest order of the year for a function at their church for over 500 people. The order needed to be ready by the next evening. We were halfway through a regular school day, having just stopped for lunch. But the hospital was probably an hour drive for me. We decided that, for now, we’d just spread the news. I called Kelly and told her. We talked about whether to head down. I think we both felt guardedly optimistic. Optimistic might be too strong of a word. Hopeful? Dad was obviously OK, since he made the call to 911 and Heather. Mom was at least conscious and requesting a hospital. I think at that point, I knew I’d be making a trip down, but should we finish school first? It’s strange now to think that those were the thoughts I was having at that time. Processing news like this comes in degrees.
Several minutes went by. 5? 10? The phone rang again. Worse news. They had decided to take Mom to Methodist; she was having trouble breathing. Dad was very upset. Heather’s voice was breaking. We hung up and I grabbed my purse and lunch and headed for the door. Before I made it to the door, Kelly called to see if I’d heard anything. I gave her the bare details and told her I was on my way to pick her up.
On the way to Kelly’s, I called Mick and told him. He couldn’t believe it. Then he told me to try not to drive too fast. I was glad he said that, because I had to think about that several times to keep from driving dangerously just to get there more quickly.
It was difficult to keep my mind from racing. Methodist is a trauma hospital and a farther drive than St. Francis. Had they made it to St. Francis and the doctors decided they couldn’t do anything? Did the EMTs make the decision en route? Were there internal injuries that made this a more critical situation than we had thought? The drive to the Orrs is just about 20 minutes. The drive to the hospital from their house – maybe 45 minutes. Plenty of time to think … and worry … and pray. Kelly and I had an unusually quiet drive – she talked to our pastor and sent some text messages. We talked to Minda, who was feeling helpless out in Virginia. We tried to speculate about Mom’s injuries – it was so hard to wait for news about how she was doing. I almost called Heather back, but knew she would’ve called if there was new information. The strangest thing during all this was that song “Make ‘Em Laugh” was running through my head. We had been watching clips from “Singin’ in the Rain” when Heather called.
We had no idea what we’d find when we got to the hospital. Dad standing out in the hall with a chaplain’s arm around his shoulders? Mom intubated and unconscious or worse? I was trying to “take every thought captive”, but not doing a very good job of it. At a time like that, it is especially comforting to know that the Spirit cries out to God for us, and also that He knows our every need.
When we got to the hospital, there were a couple of moments that we would’ve been laughing at under different circumstances. We pulled into the ER parking lot, only to be met with a sign stating we needed to park in the garage. Since we were in our very tall van, I knew a parking garage was probably out of the question – and besides, we had no idea where the parking garage was. We spotted a public lot across the street. $6, but who cares during a time like that?! Wonder how much money that lot makes from people in the same boat we were in. <grrrrr> So, were standing out in the cold, trying to pay the machine so we can get in the hospital and find out how our Mom is doing. Kelly swiped her card and we waited. Nothing. She swiped it again … and again … and again. Nothing. No error messages or anything. We read the directions on the meter. She swiped it again … and again, etc. Finally, I dug out my card and it worked.
Once inside, we were able to get a quick escort to where Mom was in ER. When we were finally about 10 feet from her curtained-off area, we had to stop and wait for a nurse to move a patient on a gurney. Probably took maybe half a minute, but it seemed like an eternity! When we finally stepped in to her area, I was immediately relieved at the scene: Mom laying quietly in bed with a collar on. Dad sitting quietly beside her holding her hand. A nurse standing at a computer taking down her information. She immediately apologized. “For getting hit by a truck?” I said. She talked about the accident very breathlessly and complained about how uncomfortable the collar was. We talked about the what-ifs and how it could have been worse and she talked about not being “anxious about anything.” (Phil 4:6) Glenn got there and she apologized to him. He said, “I forgive you…this time.” :-) An associate pastor and good friend from their church showed up and prayed.
They took Mom out for a CT scan and we headed out to the waiting room. Jennifer and Steve got there. Then Heather and later Ron. Also, an elder from church and lastly Patty – more a sister to Mom than a cousin. More phone calls were made with updates and we waited. Finally, the pastor used his clergy credentials to go back and find out what was going on. The news was that Mom had a broken rib and a partially collapsed lung. It was possible she could be released that day. Relieved, we went back to see her as soon as we could. While we were in her “room” an ER doctor came in with some disappointing news. It seems there was a pocket of air outside her lungs in her chest cavity. Most likely, one of the ribs punctured the lung when it broke. The air sometimes dissipates, but sometimes can grow larger, which is not good. He “didn’t want to have to do it,” but they would need to insert a chest tube to drain the air. It would probably need to stay in for a couple of days, so Mom would need to stay there.
To be continued…
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