He was being taken by ambulance to the ER after collapsing in the middle of doing the end-of-shift paper work (he works front desk at a local casino owned and operated hotel). As luck would have it, he had taken the van to work which meant I needed to find a way to get to him as well as to it. Like any mature woman on the 50 side of 40 would do, I called my mom and dad. I told them what was going on and asked would they please pick me up and take me to where Ira was. Within a half hour or so they were here. I was never happier to see their headlights in my driveway as I was then.
I spent the trip into town praying...and crying...and praying some more...and crying a whole lot more. Matthew, a daddy's boy through and through, had come along for the ride while Jordan held down the fort at home. Since only two people were allowed back in ER, Mom sat in the waiting area while Matthew and I went back to where Ira was. He was resting on one of the standard Stryker beds, hooked up to an EKG machine, an IV in the top of his right hand. He opened his eyes--"There you are!" Handing me the keys, he told me he'd be able to come home, he was just waiting on some tests to come back (Cat scan, EKG, etc.) Matthew waited there with his dad while I went to fetch the van. Matthew was smiling and yet wore a worried expression too. He knew his daddy was in the hospital before we even came in but that was about the extent of it. Within minutes Mom and Dad took me to the hotel where the van was parked and I was back at ER.
Doc came in after a while to let us know that the tests came back fine, as it seems they do. Being a diabetic, his sugars were through the roof, 356 down from 382. Doc glanced at me and let me know that someone had to be with him throughout the day to help check his sugars. Suffice it to say I called in, like I'd have done anything different.
Once we were back home, Matthew seemed a bit more at ease, as was Jordan when he saw that all of us were home. He was his usual laughing, dancing, "'cising'" (Matthew's word for "exercising") self. He took turns cuddling against us both but, like usual, he leaned on his dad the most.
All of this led me to fast forward to a not so distant future when Dad and I will no longer be here. It's not a pleasant thought, one I don't like to dwell on but pushing it to the back burner of my brain is not going to stop the hands of time from moving forward. We are getting older and one day we will die. When that happens, what will happen with the kids? Where will they go? What will they do? Will they be taken care of? Will they be loved, supported, and nurtured? Will they be handled with dignity and respect? What will...where will....how will....ohhhhhh.....it's too much at times!
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