Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: PROCRASTINATE (08/04/16)
TITLE: Feeling Weird
By Joy Bach
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Later she would tell me in that moment, his hands twitched. She thought he was having a seizure. But he made no mention of it to me.
A few days later, at work, sitting in front of his computer composing an email to a dentist, again his mind went blank.
Little did I know he was keeping this secret from me.
Sitting in his cozy chair at home one evening watching television, he uttered an unusual sound. I looked up from my crocheting.
“What was that about?”
“Oh, nothing. I just felt weird for a minute.”
That weekend was a motorcycle rally in another state, one he attended every year. John had endured chemo and radiation and just was not up to full strength, so he asked two friends to ride with him as he traveled…on the motorcycle. They made it safely. He rode and rested as the weekend transpired. The friends escorted him home again.
Monday morning he was delivering dental cases to different dentists. One just happened to be close to the hospital. He thought if I can find a parking space close to the entrance, I might go in and have them check me out. I still feel a little weird.
That is so not like my macho husband. I would say he must have been feeling a lot weird.
A spot was available right by the emergency room door. He walked in and said, “I’m feeling a little weird and my heart feels funny.” The lady behind the desk yelled, “Wheelchair.” That quickly he was whisked to an examining room.
I received a phone call at work.
“I’m about to make your day go bad. I’m in the emergency room at Kadlec. I’m just not feeling right.”
I exceeded the speed limit in my haste to get there.
He was hooked to bells and whistles. Since he had been in the hospital so often in the past year, I understood the information on the monitor. His heart was beating 30 beats a minute. Later, the ER doctor told me anything below 30 is dying.
For three hours they worked on him, trying to get his rate stable enough to transfer him to a room. He was admitted and for the next week his consortium of doctors consulted, changed procedures, tried new medicine and scratched their heads.
When his heart was pumping at a reasonable rate, he was discharged.
Placed in a wheelchair, a nurse pushed him to the sidewalk outside the door. She looked at me and said, “You can go get the car and pick him up here.” He stood from the chair and said, “Oh, no problem. I drove myself here”, and walked away.
The look on the nurse’s face was priceless. I shrugged my shoulders and headed to my car.
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