My car comes to a screeching halt.
I push open my door as quickly and as hard as I can and screamed “please someone I need help, please”.
An older black male wearing a black security guard uniform comes over to me “ma’am are you injured? Whats wrong?”
There are tears streaming down my face and I’m gasping for air, in-between breaths I said “my husband….. in the car ….. please help.”
As he looked in the window, he quickly jerks a walkie talkie from off his belt and says in a stern voice “assistance needed at the emergency room entrance, we have an unresponsive male”.
Before I even had time to process my surroundings I saw through the sliding glass doors a group of people running toward us. I watched as many people in different uniforms, some in blue scrubs, and some in blue scrubs and white jackets ran to my car, followed by two more people pushing out a stretcher. An older man with bags under his eyes, uses two fingers on his neck then his rest and says, “ I have a pulse, but its weak”. One of the men wearing only blue scrubs stepped into the small opening of the car door slipped his arms underneath my husbands armpits and lifted him, in one split second another man had grabbed his legs, laid him on the stretcher. Everyone was actively doing something as they were pushing my husband into the hospital. The glass doors automatically open for them as they walk in along with a second pair of doors, these were large heavy wooden doors, as we were walking through them another younger male turns to me and says “ma’am you need to stay here we will call you in when he is stable.”
My eyes dart from every corner of the cold sanitized room. From the shiny cold floor, to the beeping black screen thats flashing the numbers of his vitals, to the small ancient muted TV, thats hanging on the wall above us. There is a talk show on, a male and female sitting on opposite sides of a stage screaming at each other, seems very fitting. I look at the ceiling and in each corner of the room there are these small black bubbles with a blinking red light on each. I say to myself “we are being watched”. I can’t bring myself to look at him. My breathing is erratic, my head is throbbing and my eyes feel like there is so much pressure that they may pop right out of my skull. I try to calm myself but my legs wont stop trembling. With every passing figure I see through the curtain my body tenses with anticipation. There is no clock so I am constantly looking at my phone for the time, it feels like an eternity but its only been a few minutes. I lift my head to look at this man in front of me. My heart breaks for him but at the same time my teeth grind from frustration and anger. His eyes are closed, his face pale white, his lips dry and chapped and there are still little bits of vomit in the short corse hair of his goatee. There are wires and tubes attached all around him. He is wearing the only the “conventional” blue hospital gown because everything else could be a safety risk and were confiscated upon arrival.
I push open my door as quickly and as hard as I can and screamed “please someone I need help, please”.
An older black male wearing a black security guard uniform comes over to me “ma’am are you injured? Whats wrong?”
There are tears streaming down my face and I’m gasping for air, in-between breaths I said “my husband….. in the car ….. please help.”
As he looked in the window, he quickly jerks a walkie talkie from off his belt and says in a stern voice “assistance needed at the emergency room entrance, we have an unresponsive male”.
Before I even had time to process my surroundings I saw through the sliding glass doors a group of people running toward us. I watched as many people in different uniforms, some in blue scrubs, and some in blue scrubs and white jackets ran to my car, followed by two more people pushing out a stretcher. An older man with bags under his eyes, uses two fingers on his neck then his rest and says, “ I have a pulse, but its weak”. One of the men wearing only blue scrubs stepped into the small opening of the car door slipped his arms underneath my husbands armpits and lifted him, in one split second another man had grabbed his legs, laid him on the stretcher. Everyone was actively doing something as they were pushing my husband into the hospital. The glass doors automatically open for them as they walk in along with a second pair of doors, these were large heavy wooden doors, as we were walking through them another younger male turns to me and says “ma’am you need to stay here we will call you in when he is stable.”
My eyes dart from every corner of the cold sanitized room. From the shiny cold floor, to the beeping black screen thats flashing the numbers of his vitals, to the small ancient muted TV, thats hanging on the wall above us. There is a talk show on, a male and female sitting on opposite sides of a stage screaming at each other, seems very fitting. I look at the ceiling and in each corner of the room there are these small black bubbles with a blinking red light on each. I say to myself “we are being watched”. I can’t bring myself to look at him. My breathing is erratic, my head is throbbing and my eyes feel like there is so much pressure that they may pop right out of my skull. I try to calm myself but my legs wont stop trembling. With every passing figure I see through the curtain my body tenses with anticipation. There is no clock so I am constantly looking at my phone for the time, it feels like an eternity but its only been a few minutes. I lift my head to look at this man in front of me. My heart breaks for him but at the same time my teeth grind from frustration and anger. His eyes are closed, his face pale white, his lips dry and chapped and there are still little bits of vomit in the short corse hair of his goatee. There are wires and tubes attached all around him. He is wearing the only the “conventional” blue hospital gown because everything else could be a safety risk and were confiscated upon arrival.