Moments

Chapter One - Part 2

           

"Did he have a pulse?" he asked.

"No, I didn't check! Oh my God, I should have checked for a pulse or something and started CPR." My voice was raising and in a click of that damn second hand the weight of the world crashed down.  If he died, it would be my fault.  I didn't do what he needed.  I'd seen CPR on TV, what was wrong with me?  Oh Dad, I'm so sorry. Please, I need you. I released the plea in my mind feeling a sense of desperation clawing its way out of my body.    Dr. Nichols patted my hand trying to comfort me.

"You did the best you could and you called for help right away which was good.  It's too early to tell but he's strong.  All any of us can do is our best and then the rest is in God's hands.  We just have to wait and see how he does in the cath lab."

He meant his words to be comforting.  God's hands hadn't taken care of my mom.  No, they had stolen her from an eight year old little girl who needed her and from a man that never recovered from her loss. 

"Bullshit." It was all I could say but it startled the good doctor who said he would keep me updated and left.  I hated the feeling of total helplessness.  I'm not a control freak but I like things in order and don't care for surprises. Hmm, maybe I am a control freak. There was not one thing in this situation that would let me have even the smallest measure of direction.  I watched the ER nurses move confidently caring for so many different people.  They appeared confident, strong, self-assured and when I heard the "code blue" called overhead, I watched through the small pane in the door separating the patient area from the waiting room.  They rushed to the room confident that they knew what to do.  I pulled out my phone to look for a local CPR class.  I had to do something to keep the helplessness from suffocating me.

Click- click- click

"Come on dad, please!"  I begged; drawing the word please out into the longest word ever.  We were so close to finishing my car. Graduation was Thursday night and he promised it would be ready.  I hadn't worried before, but now it was two days away and I had bragged to my friends forever about the unveiling of the Lola 2. I was impatient to be driving my fully restored Mustang instead of the ten-year old little rust bucket truck Dad had bought me when I turned sixteen. 

"Can't you take one night off of your Tuesday thing?" Agitation and disappointment rang in my voice.  As long as I could remember, Dad went out on Tuesday nights.  For years Mrs. Martinez, the plump, old lady from next door had watched me after school and Tuesday nights.  Finally at fifteen, Dad consented to me being home alone.  I'd begged him for years to take me with him, to tell me his secret, I even pressured Mrs. Martinez but she didn't seem to know or was good at ignoring me.  I considered all the possibilities over the years and would randomly throw out a snarky comment as he left to see if Dad would react and give me a clue. 

Got your drug deal tonight? Be careful Dad, drugs will kill you.

Seeing my illegitimate half-sister tonight? Remember, you love me the most.

Traffic school again? Really Dad, you should be more responsible.

Your girlfriend waiting for you? Or is it your boyfriend? That one actually got me dirty look. 

How is the part time car dealer job paying? Lola 2 could use floor mats. 

Is it Tuesday night therapy? I'm proud of you for staying on the wagon; whatever wagon that is.

Is the book club reading Knitting for Dummies? I'd love a scarf in purple.

Is it prostitute Tuesday? Make sure you get a pretty one. And for God's sake, wear a condom young man!