Thinking of John

John was the first person who helped me when I arrived at the hospital after Steve's accident. I remember being incredibly annoyed because he was on the phone with someone else when I, with my tear stained face and 6 month pregnant baby walked up to the Emergency desk to find out where my husband was and in what condition. It seemed like forever that I waited. I wanted to be angry.

Then John cradled the phone and turned his attention to me. I don't quite know how to describe this moment, as I stumbled with simple sentences, pleading in my heart for this stranger to tell me to just go home, there was no Steve there, it had all just been a mistake. That wasn't to be, though. John's kind face calmed me. His steady voice was like a guiding light in a haze of terror. He searched for the information that I needed. He showed empathy with his gestures, with his voice, all the while I was fighting this anger, this denial, and insisting that we had good insurance. Silly, huh? As it turned out, Steve had arrived at the trauma center as a John Doe, his ID had been lost in the accident. This was further terrifying, and added to the delusion that I held that it was NOT my Steve on that motorcycle.

Once the facts had been laid out, and there was no doubt that this was my Steve, my husband, the father of my children, John immediately made his was into the trauma area. When he returned to the waiting area, where I was waiting, his face told the brutal truth. This was a bad deal. Quickly thereafter, a friend of a friend arrived and spoke with John. This friend of a friend happened to work in the trauma unit, and was admitted to see Steve. This friend delivered the grim list of injuries. John watched from the desk, walked over with tissues, floated in the background as this frenzy took control of me, of my life, of our lives.

As family and friends began to arrive to wait for news of Steve's condition, John watched over us. It was really as if he were sent by God to be my guardian on that day. There are no words to describe the stranger I met that awful day.

Finally my mother in law and I were permitted to see Steve. Wow. It was like being in the middle of my worst nightmare. Quietly, once again, John stayed in the background while I kissed and love my injured mate, while I pleaded with God to save him.

Later on in the night, once Steve was settled into the Trauma ICU, John led the group who had gathered up to the room. That was one of the longest walks ever. I was led by John to a place I never wanted to have to be, but there I was, and I was getting strength from a stranger. A stranger.

What I have written doesn't tell the story I want to tell. I don't know how to say the things that I want to say.

I think of John often. He was such a pillar for me in those dreadful days. A bright light.

Someday, I hope I can find him and thank him, again.

Still going...

and still making it.

It's amazing how life can turn out.

I have been doing a whole lotta thinking lately about the things that make me go, you know, get up in the mornings. Lately, just getting up in the mornings has been a horrible struggle. Depression seems to have creeped back into my life. I am fighting, but I feel weak and tired. It's like I have exhausted all of my resources and now have nothing left to fall back on. No one wants to hear my struggles anymore, I have had too many. No one wants to hold my hand anymore, I should be strong enough by now. I feel like I am running out of time.

I am really not doing well at work. I know that I need my job to provide for my boys, but I just don't have the energy to coddle every person who has had one failed internet connection. Really! Please restart your computer and try again. That usually does the trick! Obviously, it doesn't work every.single.time, but please, refrain from calling until you actually know that it doesn 't work. Bottom line is that I no longer like my job, in fact, I hate it. I really hate going there every day, but alas, I have to do it anyway. Isn't that just part of being an adult.

Oh, and for any teens out there who might think that they cannot wait to grow up, please don't rush it. It sucks.