Before pulling out of the hospital parking lot around 2am, Brian, Mom and I huddled to discuss what the plan would be when we returned in a few hours to the hospital. Looking back, I almost want to freeze that moment in time, rewind, ask for a do-over. I wish I had never left the hospital, I wish I would've asked more questions instead of just accepting what I was being told, I wish I had never left the parking lot.
We decided Brian would come back to the hospital first thing in the morning and that I would follow by arriving mid morning. We both intended on gathering up work and our laptops to settle in for a day spent hanging with Dad while the doctors tried to figure out what was wrong with him. I walked into my house around 3:30am and tried to sleep. A million thoughts were racing through my mind, but not one of them even came close to what ultimately would transpire over the next 8hrs.
Before I knew it, my alarm was sounding and the day was starting even though it felt like there was no break between the previous day and now. I immediately called my boss to let her know the situation and that I was going to be stopping at the office to pick up a few things and then head over to the hospital. It was 2 days before my vacation to Boston was to start and I desperately needed to complete a few things before leaving town. I made a few phone calls to close friends to update them on the events from the previous night. Around 8am, I called to check on my Dad and was actually able to talk to the doc. He said he had a team of docs including a surgeon assembled getting ready to start tests. He told me he was concerned with the internal bleeding that they didn't know where it was coming from but that Dad's pressures/blood sugar had stabilized overnight. I asked if they would do some type of exploratory surgery to find the bleeding (i.e - I used my vast knowledge from my favorite TV shows to question the real doctor!)? He told me he would only use the surgeon as a last resort. I didn't sense any urgency about the situation from him and said my brother would be in shortly and I would arrive in a couple of hours. I proceeded to jump in the shower, dry my hair, put makeup on and pack up my things to work from the hospital. Looking back, I was being so pokey. Seriously, I was taking my time getting ready and getting out the door. What was I doing?! In past experiences, I've been out the door before you can say SCRAM and had adrenaline pumping when someone needed me. Why? Why not this time? Later, my wise friend, Becky, will say, "Sam, your Dad wouldn't have wanted you there to see what was happening or see him like that." Did I mention she was wise? :) You have no idea just how many "wise" friends you have until you're faced with a difficult situation.
A little after 9am, I arrive at work. Of course, everyone is curious about what's going on and want the most up to date information. After chatting with friends and co-workers for a few minutes, I sit down to complete a couple quick tasks before getting on the road back to Springfield. My cell phone rings shortly before 10am. It's Brian! My heart stops, I try to answer it, my phone dies. OMG - something is wrong- I feel it! I can barely get my fingers working to redial Brian's phone. He answers and I know. I know something awful and unfathomable is about to happen. Brian finally speaks and simply says, "Sam." OMG - what's wrong?? Brian's voice cracks, my heart literally stops, my knees give out, I drop the phone and an indescribable gasp sound emits from my mouth. He said, "they're working on Dad and I think you need to get here now." I can't speak. I can only continuously shake my head back and forth, utter the word no over and over, and try desperately to catch my breath. Another wise friend, Jen, is immediately up, beside me and grabbing my phone. Brian tells her to get me to Springfield asap. Everything is a blur to me. Jen gets me to the elevator and into her car. I'm crying, gasping, repeating no over and over. Jen is quickly and calmly getting us on our way to the hospital. I hold my phone in my hands. Pleading over and over in my head that I'll get a phone call telling me Dad's ok - the call never came. I remember asking Jen to drive faster, but I'm pretty sure we were already driving fast. I'm terrified but know I need to call Brian. I try and he doesn't answer...this sets off a whole new panic inside me. I try again and he answers..silence..voice cracking..crying.."Sam, Dad's gone." It was 11am on 9/13/11 - the day my world stopped.
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