I was working. Well, not really. Business had slowed right down, there was a regular customer, and my fiancé. We were all chatting while I cooked dinner for my customer, when Brian’s phone rang. My phone was just ringing, but I didn't get to it in time.
“Its your mom.”
“Hello,” I answer.
“Your father was just in an accident.” My mom is frantic. It sounds like she is running.
“A deer. It jumped right out of the ditch. There was no time to react. This is bad. I need you here, now!”
“Mom, where are you? Did you crash your bike too? Are you okay? Why does it sound like you are running? Did you call 911?”
She did crash her bike too. But she was physically okay. She ‘laid’ her bike down, and landed in the ditch. (That is her term, ‘laid down.’ I personally think it may be hard to lay a bike down going 50 mph.) She had called me while running to dad. She put his glasses under his nose, he was breathing. No coratid pulse, but a slight femoral pulse. (Mom is a RN). She performed CPR until the ambulance arrived.
I called my brother, he didn’t answer. My customer took over the bar (don’t worry, he is friends with the owner). My fiancé went to my brother’s. I raced to the hospital.
I have never drove so fast in my whole life. The hospital was about 25 minutes from where we were, and I think I made it in 10. (I did at least have enough sense to put my flashers on.)
It seemed like the longest drive ever.
When I was about five miles from the hospital, the helicopter was arriving. I got a sense of panic and relief all at once. Panic because this IS really bad. Relief because, “he must be alive.”
My stomach still drops every time I see a medical helicopter.
I finally arrived at the hospital. I threw my vehicle in park, and ran as fast as I could. I had lost my sandals along the way, and left my car running in the parking lot. When I got to the entrance, I knew he wasn’t going on the helicopter. The responders’ faces told a sad story that I wasn’t ready for. I remember screaming “DADDY!”
They were in there. A whole team trying like hell to save him.
I truly believe this. My mom used to work in this very emergency room. With these very nurses and doctors. A couple of my classmates were working. Some were my parents’ Christian biker friends. Some went to our church.
I’m sorry, but I have to continue next week. I hope you understand, this is not some ploy to get you to come back, this story, my story, is a hard one to write.
Need to catch up? part 1, part 2, and part 3