It seemed like time stood still as I waited to see Steve. Finally, John came to get me to see him for the first time, his Mom, Kim, went with me. I wanted my Mom so bad, but I knew that his Mom needed to see her son.
John tried to prepare me for what I was about to see. There was no preparation that could have cushioned the jolt.
The first thing I saw as we rounded the corner to the trauma room was his feet. There was no doubt, it was Steve.
My Steve. My strong husband. He was bloody, so very bloody. There were tubes everywhere. He was on a ventilator, and he had IV's in both arms. There was a tube draining out of his chest, and a catheter. He was so still, and swollen. He had just been walking around, talking, laughing, smiling, a few short hours before. How could this be? Why, oh, why?
I took a deep breath and listened intently to what the doctor had to say. I needed to concentrate, I had to be strong. My mother in law stood a few feet away, much stronger than I could have ever been. His first words were haunting. "He has multiple life threatening injuries."
As he named the long list of injuries, I felt faint. I kept going from reality to denial, and back again. I kept questioning myself, praying that this was not real at all. Only it was all too real, and I had to snap out of it.
There was an IV going into his right forearm, giving him more blood. There were several in his left arm, giving medications. Those very strong arms, they work so hard for our family. Now, he lay there helpless, at the mercy of the knowledge of these doctors.
When the doctor was finished talking, I made my way closer to Steve. His broken nose was so swollen, his broken neck, too. He could have a stroke at any time. This could be the last kiss, the last time I see him. His hair was matted from all the blood, sticking straight up on end. I touched his face, afraid to hurt him and afraid of falling apart. The nurse said that I could touch him. I stroked his face and hair. I told him I love him and that he would be okay. I just wanted to hold him, protect him. Again, that helpless feeling enveloped me. All I could really do was pray.
It was so hard to walk away. I had to leave him and his life in the hands of strangers. I had to leave half of my soul there, on that table, covered only in a sheet, helpless, in the hands of doctors I had never before met. I walked away, with only my faith in God to sustain me.
I cannot go any further tonight. This is all still so fresh. I am crying too much to continue.
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