The Longest Night

I have sat in an emergency room several times throughout my ordinary life.  With three active kids, there were a variety of illnesses, sports injuries and accidents. We always took care of them.  If they needed to go to the ER, both of us would take them there, sit, wait, bring them home and nurse them back to health.  If they were hospitalized, we would take turns staying at the hospital.  I had the day shift; my husband had the night shift.  It was always a “we,” never just a “me.”  Now suddenly I had to make the decisions alone.  Was this a foreshadowing of things to come?

We were ushered into a waiting room where I had to sign surgical permission forms.  There was no question in my mind at this time; my husband was hurt so therefore, fix him!  By this time my other brother in law had joined us.  My husband was in surgery and they asked us now to move to the surgical waiting room.  It was the middle of the night.  There wasn’t a soul around in the area.  It was dark and quiet which matched the cold and bleakness outside the windows where we sat.  Thankfully one of my brothers in law called my home and talked to my in laws and gave them the horrific details.  They decided that they would wait until morning to tell my daughter and then join us at the hospital.   As we waited, various police officers came down to where we were sitting.  They were all as visibly shaken as we were.  Time ticked on so slowly just like in a dream.  Was this a dream?  I kept waiting for someone to pinch me and tell me to wake up, but it never happened.

We live and work in the same town that is our community.  It never dawned on me that my husband’s accident would be on TV or in the newspaper or on the internet.  At some point during the night, my brother in law suggested that I call my sons so they would not receive the news on their dad’s accident this way.  We agreed to wait until we knew the outcome of the first surgery.  I am forever grateful to have had my brothers in law with me throughout this night.  I have known them since they were young kids and they have grown into such wonderful, strong individuals who are pillars of support and never failed to be there for me or my children throughout this whole ordeal.  

I also knew once the surgery was over, we had to prepare for more to come.  While we sat and waited, I was trying to collect my thoughts.   My mind wandered back to work and I remembered the vase with the beautiful red and white tulips sitting on my desk that my husband had just sent me the day before.  My coworker said that it was just so heartbreaking seeing them sit there as a sad reminder that my life may never return to what it was before.

Finally the first surgery was over.  It went as well as could be expected.  The doctor told us with a head injury, you have to wait until the patient is awake to see the final outcome.  We were then escorted to the Surgical Intensive Care Unit, which became my second home for several weeks.  They were waiting for some items to be delivered via helicopter for the second surgery to repair the tears in the aorta.  It was becoming daylight.  We could see the sun beginning to come up through the windows of the waiting room.  The longest night was turning into the longest day.

The ER

Have you ever felt like you have just been sucked into a black hole?  What did the person on the phone just say and who was ringing my doorbell?  I was suddenly in a state of utter confusion.  My husband was just in a car crash.  The man who drives so slowly, it takes twice as long to go from point A to point B than it normally should.  The man who will not even start the car until everyone in it buckles his seatbelt.  The man who is the best darn back seat driver in the world, in a car crash, come again? 

Well I hung up the phone and the officer at the door came in and said that my husband had indeed been in a car crash and the paramedics were taking him to the hospital.  He told me I had better hurry, because we had to go.  “Is there anyone home?”  (Oh come on brain, think….)  Yes, my daughter is home, asleep.  I ran upstairs and woke her up and told her that her dad had been in an accident and that I was going to the hospital.  I did not know what his condition was, but the officer said that he was OK.   Did she want to go with me or stay home?  She had school in the morning, so she said that she would stay home.  I called my in laws and told them my husband had been in an accident and I had to go to the hospital, but would they come to the house to stay with my daughter. No problem.  I also called one of my brothers in law and left a message.  (I only had one of their cell phone numbers on hand.)  I grabbed a few things, in a bag, kissed my daughter good night and flew out the door with the officer who had assured me that my husband was fine.  I thought that he would have a few broken bones, a bit banged up, but he would be fine.  The officer said so. 

There was lots of small talk on the way to the hospital.  This officer never wavered.  He was calm, cool & collected and he swore as God as his witness, that my husband would be fine.  We just drove very fast and there was hardly any traffic.  Was it my imagination, no it was very late on a Wednesday night.  How much traffic could there be.  (I later learned that we were not too far behind the ambulance and that they had stopped all traffic.) 

We arrived at the hospital and the officer that had driven me there practically dragged me out of the car and through the parking lot and into the ER.  I could not imagine why we were in such a hurry to get to someone who just had a few broken bones.  He was in the hospital, they told me he was conscious and I was just promised by the officer, as God as his witness, that he was OK.  He was pulling me through the ER announcing to several people that I was the injured officer’s wife.  Faster and faster we moved through the waiting room, doors flew open, past several cubicles, around a corner and boom, there he was in this room.  For the second time in less than an hour, time stopped.  There is nothing in this world or any other for that matter, which could have ever prepared me for what I saw in that room.  It is in delved in my head forever.  Who is this person in this room?  That is not my husband, is it?  My husband only has a few bumps and bruises, right?  Here in this room is a man surrounded by so many people, so many machines, so many tubes and so much blood.  He is not awake, he is not fine.  Oh my God, he is not fine.  As I stood there, an outward pinnacle of calmness, inside my head was whirling.

And at that point, I felt so alone and helpless.  All I could think was try to pay attention to what the doctors are telling you.  You have to pay attention.  They are telling you that they are taking him for a cat scan. They are saying he needs surgery, but they are not sure which surgery he needs first.  He has a massive head injury, his blood pressure is dropping, he has many broken bones, please wait outside the room a moment.  I stood there like a little lost waif, waiting for news of what would happen next.  Then I heard someone say a brother was here.  I turned and have never been so happy to see a familiar face in my life.  My husband’s younger brother had appeared.  Together we were able to put together what had happened.  My husband had been stopped at a red light.  The light had just turned green and he proceeded into the intersection.  A drunk driver coming from the opposite direction crossed over the center lane of traffic and hit his squad car head on at a speed estimated to be more than 65 miles an hour. Thankfully, my husband was only going approximately 22 miles an hour.  More than that and he would have never made it to the hospital. 

The trauma team arrived back to the room with my husband.  They had discovered he had an aortic dissection (a lacerated thoracic aorta).  This is why his blood pressure was dropping.  They had decided that they would do surgery on his head injury first and a neurosurgeon would come to talk to us.  When that surgery was over, they would proceed to repair the heart.  Broken bones are last, they need to take care of life threatening injuries first.  That was it, they told me to kiss him good bye.  I stood for a moment looking at him and thought where can I kiss him good bye.  I could not even get close to any part of his body that wasn’t covered either in bandages, tubes, or machines. I slipped my hand to his for a quick squeeze and they whisked him out of the room.  This began the longest night, the first of many.

Part 1...The beginning.

I am an ordinary person.  I live an ordinary life.  I’m married, have 3 wonderful children, my oldest is married to a marvelous girl.  I work, raised the kids in the suburbs, sent them to college and have really done nothing but live a normal life.  One of the most exciting things that I have done was go to the Bahamas for my 50^th birthday.  You see I was born in January in Chicago.  One of the coldest months of the year around here.  From the time I was a little girl, once my birthday rolled around, we experienced snow, more snow, giant blizzard, ice storm and oh, did I mention, snow!  Numerous birthdays were put on hold due to the weather.  So for my 50^th birthday, I wanted to be able to experience it in the warmth of the sun, on a beach, sipping piña coladas.  No parties, no hoopla just warmth.  Ahhh, the tropics.  So my husband took me there.  God, it was beautiful!  It was everything that I had imagined.  I just did not want it to end and go back to cold Chicago.  We had it all, the sun, the beach, the piña coladas and the romance.  1 week of delightful bliss.  Anyone who has had the chance to go to some place as lovely as this and experience such a wonderful time should understand what I mean.  If not, close your eyes and just picture it.  However, time goes by quickly and then it’s back to reality!  Back to the ordinary life.

Or so I thought.  2 weeks had gone by and it was now Valentine’s Day.  My husband has never been a romantic. But we were still high off our tropical getaway.  He sent to me at my office, a beautiful vase of red and white tulips.  Was it romance or was he trying to butter me up to get me to go with him to the dealership to pick up his car that was just worked on.  Perhaps both!  I couldn’t burst his little bubble, because he had just got the new tires he had always wanted on his car.  So directly after work, we picked up his car and then stopped for a romantic dinner at the fast food restaurant we passed on the way home!  

Aha, perhaps you thought that there would be more to that Valentine’s Day.  But no… As I said before, we are pretty ordinary.  The next day is a work day for us and you see, my husband is a police officer, for 19 years at this time on this current police department.   So our schedules are just a bit different than most.  I usually go to bed and he goes to work.  We are used to it, as anyone who is married to a police officer would be.  For us it is our life and you make the necessary adjustments.  But this night it was his day off.  However, we just went directly home to finish celebrating with our daughter who was anxiously awaiting the delicious meal from that fine aforementioned restaurant. 

The next day was Wednesday; just another day at work for me.  But on my desk was that vase of beautiful tulips.  There is nothing better than fresh flowers to remind you of spring in the dead of winter.  The day passed by pretty quickly and it was time to go home.  My husband had to go into work this night, so he was asleep when I got home.  Doing what most people do when they get home from work, I checked the mail!  Oh, a wedding invitation from my husband’s cousin.  (Very fancy, with a website to check out and an RSVP via the internet.) Unfortunately we could not attend as we had already responded to a previous wedding invite. (Aren’t we popular!) But I just had to go to their website, respond and browse through it.  Although I could not do so at that time, I knew I would have plenty of time to do that once my husband went to work and my daughter went to bed.  No work for me the next day, as it was my day off.  So I could have a bit a time to myself a little later that evening. 

Ah, my husband is getting ready to leave for work; my daughter is getting ready for bed, accusing her father of eating her barbeque potato chips.  Just an ordinary evening in our household!  Finally peace and quiet for me.  My husband finally left for work and I just had to get myself to the computer to delve into that wedding invitation.  About a half hour had passed.  I had just sat down, totally enamored with the website, when I heard the back door open.  It was my husband, he poked his head into our computer room, and said “oh late night.”  Gosh, I got caught!  I laughed and told him, “Yeah, I’m hooked on this wedding website.”  He had forgotten his flashlight on the kitchen counter and was in and out of the house in a bat of an eye.   Unbeknownst, to me at this time, was that those were the last words I would hear my husband say to me for many months.

Ten minutes after he stopped at the house, I received a phone call from the station that my husband had been in an accident and that an officer would be coming to the house in a matter of minutes to take me to the hospital.  It was 11:15 pm on February 15, 2006 and my life…my ordinary life, had jolted to a mighty stop.