The Second Wave-part two

It has been a while since I have written about our story. I started this at the beginning of the year. So much has happened since then with my back problems that led to surgery. Not to mention all the bumps in the road Chuck has had. I hope to finish our story soon. But if you missed the first wave, it is right here.

I woke Maggie up. Groggy from not getting much sleep herself, she said that Chuck hadn't made it to the camp, and in fact she fell asleep in the chair waiting for him. My heart started to panic when she told me this. She said that she would look around the camp and call me back. While she did that, I decided to go look outside to the parking lot to see if Chuck had fallen asleep in the car because he got lost and just chose to come back to the hospital. By the time the elevator doors opened and I was on the main floor, tears were falling down my cheeks. I just knew that something had happened. As I raced outside into the humid morning, I ran across the street to see if the car we rented was there. I tried to calm my mind and think of what type of car we had, but, the model escaped me. I walked up to each car looking for Chuck. One man was sleeping in a car, but it wasn't my husband. By now I was crying out to God, asking if Chuck was alive and was he safe. There were so many visions of him being beaten, stabbed, or shot, circling in my mind. Years ago on the news, there were all these robberies and murders that happened to tourists that visited Florida. And of course as I was all ready in panic mode, the enemy just planted more fear and terror into my heart. So I stopped and prayed in the parking lot. And God gave me this sliver of peace. I knew he was alive, but nothing else.
I went back upstairs and called Maggie. She let know that she didn't find him.

What transpired next,  in some ways was more traumatic then seeing Chuck for the first time laying deathly still on a gurney hooked up to every type of tube imaginable. Racing back to Jonathan's room, I opened my laptop and I googled where we were and where Chuck was supposed to drive to. I found Gainesville, Waldo, and Alachua County. So I started calling different places trying to find out if Chuck had been in an accident or if someone attacked him. I haven't had to do something like this in years, but what I experienced on the phone, I hope no one will EVER have to. Gainesville and Waldo didn't even know the two main roads that were close the campground. I could see them on Google maps, but they couldn't. I was beyond exasperated with them. No one informed me that Florida Highway Patrol took care of all car accidents. I didn't find this out until I had my fender bender two days later. I ended up calling the  Highway Patrol, but they wouldn't tell me anything except to say that I may want to call the hospitals. Two hours later after multiple phone calls and being put on hold, I found out that Chuck was in at the other hospital in town. By that point, I was just about inconsolable, especially when they told me he was in ICU.

Two things worked against me during that morning. Working as a 911 operator and having greater expectations than Florida communications could produce. Secondly, the trauma department isn't like the medical intensive unit. I worked as a ward clerk for University hospital and I was the first person families saw when their loved ones were hospitalized. I hope I never treated anyone the way we were treated where Chuck was, with cold and indifferent attitudes.

The doctor explained to me on the phone that Chuck had been in a car accident and was intabated, sedated, and suffered broken ribs, collar bone, and shoulder blade. It wasn't until days later that the finally got around to telling me about the brain injury. As they pieced out the information to me; which I saw it as very unprofessional for them to do. I explained to the doctor that I was in North Regional on the cardiac floor with my 17 year old son who was going to have a heart catheter to rule out if he indeed did have have a heart attack. By this point I was failing miserably to stay calm in front of my son. I was pacing and crying as the nurses came in to find out what was wrong. I tried so desperately to keep it all together, for I didn't want to cause Jonathan to stress out and have another episode. But when he asked the nurses to give me oxygen, I realized that I had failed at keeping calm.

I had to call Maggie and tell her what happened. I honestly can't remember much of that conversation other than she said she had to shower and she would be on her way. Next the doctors came in to Jonathan's room and told me that they would wait to do the catheter until I came back from to the other hospital. They were so understanding. The following day, one of Jonathan's cardiologists called me and told me that he would drive me around town, if I needed it. The differences between both hospitals were like night and day. North Florida Regional was warm and inviting and went way beyond the call of duty towards us in our time of great need.

Chuck's hospital just couldn't understand that I had my son in North Regional and if I was going to wait in the waiting room, I wanted to wait with him at his hospital. They made me wait the first few days for no reason. It was so frustrating.

So Maggie picks me up and we find the other hospital. I race up to the ICU only to find an indifferent voice on the other line telling me I had to wait. I slammed down the phone. My patience had run dry. I just wanted to see my husband. Looking back, I felt like I was displaying character traits of Shirley MacLaine in Terms of Endearment where she is screaming at the nurse to giver her daughter her pain medicine. And the nurse is indifferent and says she will be there in a few minutes and then Shirley unloads on her. That scene comes to mind when I think of that first few hours when I was able to see  Chuck for the first time.


So, Maggie and I see this big guy coming to get me, we are pretty sure it is security, but later we find out he is their social worker for the trauma floor. I didn't care if who was coming after me, I just wanted to see my husband, and that was it. As we walked into to his room and I saw Chuck lying still on the bed with every type of tube coming out of him, I almost lost it. I turned around and paced for a minute while I tried to catch my breath. There is the searing pain that enters your heart and gut all at the same time. I have only had this experience one other time and that is when I saw Elizabeth's casket and how small it was. Even then, I had to walk off the pain.

Once I regained my exposure we walked into the room. My purse drop to the ground with a big thud. I said, "Let's pray." And then I laid my hand upon his head as I asked God to spare his life. To heal him from head to toe. As I was praying, I could feel the power of God flow through my hand. At that point, I knew that he would be okay. When I looked up, the social worker had just said amen . At that moment, I knew he would help us and he did.

Chuck seemed so lifeless lying on that bed. I squeezed his hand longing for a response, but there wasn't any. The trauma doctor who saved his life came in and gave me the news. I liked him. He was straight forward and asked about our son. He told me that Chuck was badly hurt, but that he would live. But it was going to take a lot of time for Chuck to heal.

At that moment my heart felt like it was being ripped in two. I had a son a mile down the road needing his mother as he was being tested for major heart issues. As I stared at my husband's body lying on the bed with the only movement coming from machines that was keeping him alive, I felt such a void in my heart, what was I to do? Chuck was hurt, but stable. The nurse now had my number, they could call me so that I could go back to Jonathan so, he could have his cath-test. I said a quick prayer and kissed Chuck and forced my legs to walk out of the room.