 |
 |
|
|
|
Life Changed In An Instant
Oct 18, 2002
At 9:00 am on August 13, 2001 I left a healthy, tall, strong, handsome 17 year old son sleeping as I went off to work. Michael got a phone call at 11:00 am from his 20 year old brother, asking him to bring something to him at his place of work. He got up, showered, and walked up the street to the main street in our town. It was 11:54 am, traffic had stopped, Michael crossed the street. The driver of the truck that was pulling out of the restaurant parking lot claims he didn't see Michael crossing the street. The truck, one of those huge trucks that empty dumpsters, hit and ran my son over.
At 12:00 I got a phone call at work, my oldest son, words, a jumble of staticy sounds, "Mom - Mike - Truck - Hurt" then, as clear as a bell "Mom, get here now!" I ran out of my place of work before anyone had a chance to get details, or even to offer to take me there. I "flew" towards home. I got close to the intersection and saw the police cars blocking off the street. I finally got to the scene, saw my older son and my daughter holding on to each other. People staring. A shoe in the middle of the road behind that truck. The fire chief, telling me, "he's breathing on his own" "the ambulance got here in less than 4 minutes" "they've called for the Med-flight helicopter to take him into Boston" I called my sister on someone's cell phone, she wasn't home, but then she was running toward me (she's an RN). She went to the fire chief for details, then off we went, to the high school football field, before the med-flight takes off. Kathy, the med-flight nurse, calming me. "We're doing everything we can, he's been given medication to keep him calm, he's out" "We're going to Mass. Genereal" A quick kiss on the forehead, and off he goes. How do I tell his father? I don't want to make that call. My sister makes the call to my ex and tries to get him to understand that we don't know anything yet. He needs to meet us at the hospital. He's 2 hours away. Tim (Mike's twin)is away for a few days, not sure how to reach him. Off to the hospital, the longest trip ever. The hospital is buzzing with activity, we're taken into a private room. A social worker comes in, questions, trauma nurse comes down from the operating room where he was taken immidiately upon arrival. The longest wait. The priest comes in, talk, pray, he goes to Michael. The doctor wants to talk to me. The doctor, priest, social worker, nurse, all there. "We've done what we can" Upstairs to SICU, have to hurry. Crowd around the bed, machines, tubes, IV's, beeps, a flurry of activity. Tears. Peaceful, pale, hold on, don't go. I'M NOT READY TO LET YOU GO! It's time though, a quiet whisper, "it's okay baby, you don't have to stay, you can let go now, I love you"
4:05 pm, Monday, August 13, 2001. No more beeps. Nothing more, just the pain, then the numbness.
4:40 pm, his father arrives, with Dan, our youngest, 14. Holding him, my baby, letting the tears flow.
5:14 pm, finally get ahold of Tim, he has to get the news over the phone. I want to crawl through the phone line to hold him. He needs a ride to the hospital. Nurses, Angels allow us to keep Mike in the room till he gets there.
7:30 pm, Tim arrives, wants to go into the room alone. The pain, all over again, watching the reality hit him. Prayers around the bed, hugs, tears, numb.
|
|
|
|
