Yesterday

June 2, 2008 at 3:23 am (Essay, Life, Writting)

I opened my eyes, groggy as hell. My eyes took a second to adjust and I looked to my alarm clock which read a few minutes before four pm. Good a time as any I thought to myself. I pulled myself out of bed grabbed a clean pair of underwear, walked into my bathroom and showered. Some people drink coffee to wake up, I prefer scalding hot showers, makes me less jittery during the day.

After getting showered and dressed I started to forage my kitchen for some food like substance. It seems like our kitchen is filled with food but nothing ever to eat. I checked the stove and saw that my mother had some stir fry done up but no rice. A quick look in the microwave resulted in disappointment. No rice in there too. It was then that I saw the timer, the clock read shortly after three. I must have messed up on setting my clock again, I do that on a regular basis but I couldn’t help but think later that day “What if I didn’t?”

I went into the computer room and asked my mom if she was going to cook some rice, a skill that I lack completely. I can cook well but when it comes to rice I’m fumbles McGee. I can’t even nuke instant rice with out it coming out mushy. She told me it would be a couple minutes so I went to my room and popped in a DVD. Alias season one disc two to be exact. I was excited to see what happen between Gina Torres and Jenifer Gardner.

About half way through the show I paused it and went to see if the rice was done. It was however it was some rice-a-roani crap that I hate with a passion. I grabbed a bowl and shoveled some in with the Stir Fry and my mom went to wake up my dad for his last day of work. I looked at the timer on the microwave, it was 3:30. It was rare for my Dad not to be up at this time.

It was when I opened the fridge for a Diet Coke when my mom called for me to the bedroom. I thought that something was wrong, that for some reason my dad blew out his back and needed my help out of bed. It’s happened before. I strode back there and my mother was yelling his name. My face drained. Panic.

I started to call out to him shake him a bit. I touched his skin and knew that something was wrong. I thought he was dead. Hopelessness flooded my mind, I knew I couldn’t do anything to shake him out it. There was one thing I needed to do, I ran and grabbed the land line, almost forgetting the number for 911.

It was only a ring before the Emergency response dispatcher was on the line, but it seemed like twenty. It wasn’t fast enough. I managed to blubber out what had happened, that my dad was laying in bed not waking up. My mom came out, “Don’t you know CPR?” I didn’t know. I’ve had some training I guess but I wasn’t certified. Still in that moment I couldn’t tell you that I knew.

I told my mom to pick up the mobile and I rushed back to my dad. The CPR training that I did receive kicked in, I carefully rolled him to his back making sure his spine was secure. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing. I tilted his head to open up the air way and gave him a breath. I forgot to check on a pulse but the breath seemed to kick something in because he was breathing.

I checked for a pulse but I couldn’t find one. It seemed like two hours at this moment. I’m screaming “Where they hell is the ambulance, It’s not here! I can’t feel a pulse… He’s breathing that means he should have one so Why can’t I find it!?” A few moments later the local sheriff came in to the house and took over the scene and then the EMT’s.

I moved out of the bedroom to give them space and to go throw up. I was about to but couldn’t didn’t have any food in me. I could hear the EMT’s say something about getting a stretcher in. I knew that would be impossible with the way our porch was set up. I rushed to the door and tried to pull down the hand rail.  I wasn’t strong enough, the thing was deceivingly well built. I attacked it with my feet, kicking it with the flat of my foot in thong sandals. The sheriff said to be careful, I grunted “I don’t care but I am”. With a large crack the hand rail gave way and I tossed it to the side. I was about to tear down the screen door but the sheriff had it taken care of.

The two Sheriff’s and I rushed to grab the stretcher and what not. Granted this probably wasn’t a great idea, but I needed to do something to kill how helpless I felt. It took me a couple of tries to lift the stretcher out of the back of the ambulance, it was caught in a safety hook.

After wrangling out of it we got it into the house. It seemed like another hour had passed it was three forty five. I was about to go back to the bedroom but one of the Sheriffs stopped me, I didn’t argue because I knew he was right. I noticed that my mouth was dry so I went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and also to attempt throwing up yet again. My gag reflex didn’t happen and as much water as I drank I couldn’t erase the dryness in my mouth.

Feeling weak I sat down on the couch. Feeling nervous I stood back up. Feeling helpless I moved around the house. I called my boss telling her I wasn’t coming into work. The stretcher came out with my dad on it and the EMT’s talking to him. He was awake somewhat. He could nod. I was a bit relieved but not much. He still wasn’t fully aware.

My mom and I stayed in the house for a little wile after taking care of calling his place of work and the person he was suppose to car pool with. I told mom to gather up some clothing for him and her. She did and then she took off to the hospitable. I waited a bit, I needed to break down a bit and couldn’t do so with her there. I put away the food and went to my lap top. I twittered what had just happened, I needed to tell some one or something.

I gathered up some of my things and walked out to the living room. I saw that my mom left the bag. I picked it up and got into my car for the longest drive of my life. The nearest hospitable to our place is an hour away. I couldn’t keep my mind from racing the whole trip. My mind filled with “What if”. The thoughts of it being a stroke or heart attack or something debilitating, flew by like a heard of buffalos. The irony of the situation hit me, it was my dads last day of work ever, that crap only happened in movies but I guess a cliché is a cliché for a reason.

My mind was all over the place, to focus it I called a couple people. I called my mom’s friend. She already knew because she just got off the phone with my mom. I then called my best friend, he was shocked. I felt kind of bad for ruining his day because he was going to the George Clinton concert in a couple of hours.

I finally reached Gillette with eyes blurry with tears. I had been fighting them back but they were getting harder and harder to restrain. I was about to loose it. I chose the fastest route to the hospitable. It took fifteen minutes to get there. I walked in and the nurse knew who I was and let me back into the suture room. I stepped in and a weight was lifted off my chest, my dad was sitting up groggy with a oxygen mask on. He was alive.

 

It’s been a day since then, we still don’t know what caused this but he is doing a 100% better but he is still in the hospitable. Maybe this time tomorrow we will have something but not entirely sure. I’m still shocked about how surreal this has been, it seems like a lifetime ago now and almost like it didn’t happen. I’m not even thinking about “What if” any more. Might be crass to say this but I’m feeling a bit Zen right now. I’m just happy he’s still around.

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