Eds Note Saturday October 3.
My intent was to leave quick enough to to get the parking lot sooner. It was late, it was dark, it was much colder now than it was only three hours ago. The outdoor temperature may have been the same, but my body felt and sensed it as if it were much cooler. I drove off and trusted that the dashboard gps would get me to where I needed to go. As the lady with the british accent spoke, I heard but couldnt always comprehend. I am tired, i am frustrated, nervous and annoyed. I take the next right sooner that the one thousand feet that the British lady had just mentioned. The GPS recalculates and I am back on route. As I sit at the red light I realize that the tips of my fingers are cold. I grip the steering wheel so hard that I stop the circulation to my finger tips. I loosen up and let the blood flow. I take a deep breadth and tell myself that this too shall pass.
A few lights later an ambulance approaches from behind me. I hate the sounds of the ambulances sirens.
I flash back to when I was 13 years old, sitting behind a desk at St. Raphaels school. The smell of stale milk in the classroom because they didnt have a cafeteria and that strange smell of friday afternoons sweaty uniforms. Monday the class smelled like bleach and the kids smelled like various fabric softeners, friday the class smelled like stale milk and sweaty 13 year old body odor. Sitting behind our desk Sister Barbara, in her full head to toe dark black habit (that almost simulated the same scent schedule) would have us stand and say a prayer for the patient and the families as soon as we heard the ambulance sirens on the roads outside of our classrooms. Ever since those classroom days, everytime that I hear a siren, I almost smell the milk and n.o. and I say a prayer. i flash back to the times that I called the ambulance fir my father. I was young. I was nervous. I would call 911 with a tremble in my voice and my entire body would shiver uncontrollably. Ive ridden in several with my father when he had strokes or heart attacks. I was scared then, I was uncertain of the outcome and would just sit and pray. I hate the sound of sirens, even so, when I hear one...it brings back the memories and I can almost feel what the caregivers feel and so I say that prayer.
Sitting at the light, the sirens and lights get closer. I pull to the side and grip the steering wheel tighter than before. Im gripping the wheel so hard again that my finger tips are cold, Im clenching my teeth so hard that my jaw hurts. I ask the Lord to help who is in it and the family...how friggin Ironic. The ambulance passes me on the left and I swallowed what I had, clenched my teeth and tried unsuccessfully to hold back a tear. I held back the rest of my tears because I still had to drive. The light remained red, the siren and the flashing lights disappeared slowly into the distance. Here I am again, Im sitting in this car, at a red light as my kid gets further and further away from me. Im so frustrated, annoyed, Lord......why?....one step forward and three steps back. Lord, everything happens for a reason...right now I am confused.
Light changes and I make my way to the Boston Childrens Hospital parking structure. Mom is with Alex and must be a nervous wreck, which goes without saying. I am a wreck both inside and out but need to wipe my face off take a deep breadth and get into this emergency department.
Things just straight out SUCK. This little man has been at this for several months. It is enough already.
Bela and I are tired, Bela and I are on this crazy emotional roller coaster of happy...sad...annoyed...ok...happy... Really happy and then pissed.... aggravated ...etc. I pray, we pray, we read comments and your supportive texts. We dont call because the tremble in our voice or our vulgarity of the moment may not be appropriate for conversation. We find support in what ever sign or reading or youtube video from different priests, pastors, motivational speakers etc. That we receive from you all. We took a few steps forward and then again a few steps back. Everything happens for a reason...Lord....fix this.
Today as I sit in the vehicle wiping the tears from my eyes, I semi pray. I semi pray because my anxieties dont let me focus on the words. Im sitting in the car staring at the wall of the parking lot. I recall a quote from....John Wayne.... I dont know why, but it is what comes to mind... "courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway". Im scared about this situation, I dont want to walk through those doors again under these circumstances, but no matter what I need to wipe off, toughen up and get in there. (I think john wayne kept a flask in his pocket for help...i dont right now...) I need to get in there hold the kid, move the kid, talk medicines, talk stuff and sit by this kids side yet again until he gets thru this.
Here we go again.
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