How I Make Important Decisions
Most of the people who call me regularly know that if I'm busy, I won't answer the phone. Don't take it personally, just leave a message. If it's REALLY important, go ahead and call back right away and if at all possible I'll break away and answer the phone. Otherwise, I'll get back to you as soon as I put down the heart.
A few years ago, one particular Valentine's Day, I was at work. Well, school really, because I was still paying them to be there. Anyway, my boss and I were dealing with a particularly tricky situation--the kind you just can't walk away from. And my phone rings. Fortunately, I had taken the precaution of putting the phone on vibrate, so I just ignored it and kept on with what I was doing.
And then the phone rang again.
And again.
Shit.
In an amazing display of professionalism, I finished what I was doing, then stepped outside and checked the voicemail.
In an amazingly calm, controlled voice, ItsALongStory described to me how The Girlfriend had just been in a car accident. She was at the Level One Trauma Center for the region, and doing very well.
Message two was The Girlfriend's Dad (who does this for a living, and was much more upset) telling me the same thing.
I called ItsALongStory back, and got the details: She's fine, she's at the hospital, they're examining her, she should be OK.
I grabbed the office assistant, explained (very briefly) to her that my girlfriend had just been in a car accident, and that I was leaving for the day--could she please let the boss know?--and ran out the door.
I've been trained to deal with this sort of thing. My brain doesn't shut off, no matter how much adrenaline I'm working with. No matter what, I keep thinking.
As I was running down the stairwell (from the third floor. The time efficiency break for elevator v. stairs is supposed to be 2 floors, but in this situation I figured I could push the envelope) I started thinking--she's supposed to be OK. That's good. Do I trust the doctors who examined her?* They performed a trauma activation** on her--that could be bad, but they perform trauma activations at the drop of a hat...
I got in the car. I made sure I had the flowers (it was Valentine's Day after all). I headed to the hospital.
The Dadmobile would do 110 mph before the governor kicked in...then the ride gets rough. I've been trained to drive very fast through traffic. I've also been trained when not to. ItsALongStory and The Girlfriend's Dad had told me that her blood pressure and pulse were stable, that she was doing fine. I wouldn't do her any favors by hauling ass to the hospital and getting myself in an accident. Between bouts of realizing I was driving too fast, slowing down, and realizing I was driving too fast my brain kept presenting me with possibilities. External bleeding was pretty well ruled out--they'd have noticed that. Slow down. Bleeding into the chest or belly can take a while to show up. Slow down. Bleeding into the brain can take even longer. Slow Down. They said she's fine. Slow Down. I wonder how the car is? Broken bones are usually pretty obvious, but minor ones can be missed in the rush to catch more serious injuries. Slow Down. Where did the accident happen? Which EMS crew brought her in? SLOW DOWN.
A few years ago, one particular Valentine's Day, I was at work. Well, school really, because I was still paying them to be there. Anyway, my boss and I were dealing with a particularly tricky situation--the kind you just can't walk away from. And my phone rings. Fortunately, I had taken the precaution of putting the phone on vibrate, so I just ignored it and kept on with what I was doing.
And then the phone rang again.
And again.
Shit.
In an amazing display of professionalism, I finished what I was doing, then stepped outside and checked the voicemail.
In an amazingly calm, controlled voice, ItsALongStory described to me how The Girlfriend had just been in a car accident. She was at the Level One Trauma Center for the region, and doing very well.
Message two was The Girlfriend's Dad (who does this for a living, and was much more upset) telling me the same thing.
I called ItsALongStory back, and got the details: She's fine, she's at the hospital, they're examining her, she should be OK.
I grabbed the office assistant, explained (very briefly) to her that my girlfriend had just been in a car accident, and that I was leaving for the day--could she please let the boss know?--and ran out the door.
I've been trained to deal with this sort of thing. My brain doesn't shut off, no matter how much adrenaline I'm working with. No matter what, I keep thinking.
As I was running down the stairwell (from the third floor. The time efficiency break for elevator v. stairs is supposed to be 2 floors, but in this situation I figured I could push the envelope) I started thinking--she's supposed to be OK. That's good. Do I trust the doctors who examined her?* They performed a trauma activation** on her--that could be bad, but they perform trauma activations at the drop of a hat...
I got in the car. I made sure I had the flowers (it was Valentine's Day after all). I headed to the hospital.
The Dadmobile would do 110 mph before the governor kicked in...then the ride gets rough. I've been trained to drive very fast through traffic. I've also been trained when not to. ItsALongStory and The Girlfriend's Dad had told me that her blood pressure and pulse were stable, that she was doing fine. I wouldn't do her any favors by hauling ass to the hospital and getting myself in an accident. Between bouts of realizing I was driving too fast, slowing down, and realizing I was driving too fast my brain kept presenting me with possibilities. External bleeding was pretty well ruled out--they'd have noticed that. Slow down. Bleeding into the chest or belly can take a while to show up. Slow down. Bleeding into the brain can take even longer. Slow Down. They said she's fine. Slow Down. I wonder how the car is? Broken bones are usually pretty obvious, but minor ones can be missed in the rush to catch more serious injuries. Slow Down. Where did the accident happen? Which EMS crew brought her in? SLOW DOWN.
I've been on some pretty long car trips in my life. One of 'em took 5 weeks by the calendar. None of 'em were longer than that 10-minute drive.
Eventually, I got to the hospital. My credentials got me in right away. My brain made me pause, grab a (clean) urinal, fill it with water and stick the flowers in it (it was Valentine's Day, after all). The Girlfriend was, in fact, OK. Nothing that wouldn't heal completely and fairly quickly. As we were all reassuring ourselves that she would live, a random medical student stuck his head in without knocking, but he was looking for someone else. As The Girlfriend's Dad went off to chew him him out, she and I got to hold each other for a minute.
I think that's when I started breathing again.
Somewhere in the middle of all this, I realized that this woman was just not allowed out of my life. That I needed her. That I couldn't live without her. That I had to marry her. That's when the machinations started to convince The Girlfriend that she should become The Wife.
*rule 1: Trust Nobody
**a trauma activation is a specific series of assessments, studies, and notifications that is designed to 1) identify serious trauma patients and 2) get them to the operating room as quickly as possible
**a trauma activation is a specific series of assessments, studies, and notifications that is designed to 1) identify serious trauma patients and 2) get them to the operating room as quickly as possible
posted by Ted @ 20:00
3 Comments:
At 14/10/08 21:58 ,
KAISER ANDY I said...
Yeah, yeah, yeah, touching story.
That Bonneyville looks nothing like that POS you drove.
Oh, and I do mean touching.
At 15/10/08 01:53 ,
Yankee John said...
i had a similar experience with Andy. It was after a four day Whities and Beer A-Thon that I decided, if I lived, I would spend the rest of my life trying to kill that bastard.
One.
Kneecap.
At.
A.
Time.
Talk about commitment...
At 15/10/08 13:54 ,
KAISER ANDY I said...
You had me at "#$&*%@@!!*&%@!"
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