I remember when the ER doctor told me that my husband was paralyzed.
I was sitting in a tiny room with my dad and my in-laws. The attending ER doc and a resident were in the room with us. It fit the six of us. barely.
There was a bucket in the corner catching water dripping from the ceiling.
My dad was sitting to my left wearing his leather jacket. I was wearing my sister’s sweatshirt.
The resident wouldn’t look at me and kept playing with his wedding ring. All I could do was stare at his ring and think, ‘He just wants to go home to his wife. He doesn’t want to sit here with me.’
He was about my age. The attending about my dad’s. Neither wanted to talk to us. Neither wanted to be there. They hated every minute of it.
And then the attending told me. He said that the quad was paralyzed. I think my mother-in-law screamed. It could have been me. I don’t remember. All I remember is that I was glad my dad was there. As long as he was there, I’d be okay. I’d get through it. It would be okay since my daddy would make it all okay.
But it wasn’t okay. It was so far from okay and I had no idea.