Room 319

From the corner of my eye I saw her sitting there alone in the third floor lobby. It was just past four in the morning and I was running from one end of the hospital to the other, but her solitary figure left a stark image in my mind. I knew who she was, and I knew why she was here.

An hour earlier I had encountered her in the hallway, coming into a normally restricted area at this time of night. She had her coat on yet, carrying her purse as she made her way down the corridor, a woman on a mission. You see, she had just gotten that middle of the night phone call that all of us dread, and pray we never recieve. "Hi this is LaDeeDah at the Hospital. I'm sorry to wake you, but your loved one has taken a turn during the night. You need to come, now..."

I did not need to see which room she was headed to, I knew that already too. Room 319. Over the course of the evening nurses had been running into and out of that room more and more frequently. Sometimes in twos and threes, which is never a good sign. Eventually Dr N, a Neuro doc was paged and appeared looking a bit rumpled from sleeping in his shirt and tie somewhere off in the doctor's lounge. The moment I saw him and he said hello to me in passing, I knew what had happened in Room 319. The patient had stroked out.

As I returned from my destination I noticed that she was still there. Still alone, looking so lost. Though I did not know her, had never dealt with her husband or even entered Room 319, I walked across the empty lobby to where she sat, holding a cell phone open in her lap, unable to dial any numbers. The phone was lit up ready and waiting or her attention, a picture filled the screen. Maybe that was part of why she is unable to move.

I pick up a tissue box from the counter and she looks up at me as I come and sit down directly in front of her on a magazine filled coffee table. Had it been during the day time, some elderly volunteer would have come and smacked me for sitting on that table, but right here right now, I really didn't give a damn about that and neither did this lady. She looks relieved that someone, anyone stopped here for a moment, perhaps it was a distraction that helped her regroup. You never can tell.

"He had a stroke you know," the lady told me without any prompting, just as if I knew her and her husband well. "We came in earlier tonight, he just wasn't feeling well. Couldn't put his finger on what it was just something was wrong." I just nod my head quietly and watch. "They called me at three, said he wasn't going to make it 'til morning... He went that fast," she stated still studying her phone as if she is confused by it and has no idea how it works anymore. "I called our son, earlier, he said he would come but I know he won't. They weren't close."

"What can I do for you?" I ask very simply.

"I thought about calling our minister, but I don't know. It's the middle of the night... He's already gone, there isn't anything they can do for him now..." she murmurs. "There's no use calling now..."

"Perhaps you could call your minister anyway. I know that if I didn't call mine, he would be very upset thinking that he was not there for me in my time of need. Your husband may be gone, but you are still very much here." The lady looks at me, tears are pooling again. She nods her head in agreement. "We have a chaplain here that I could call. He happens to be a good friend of mine. Would you like me to give him a call? He is close by."

The lady nods, and I unclip my cell and give Matt a call. Matt is an ace of a chaplain, reminds me a bit of Burl Ives, and has the same smooth, quiet mannerisms of an Amish man. I rouse him from sleep somewhere around the hospital, and as I speak to him my own radio goes off. I have a run...

"Matt will be here in just a couple minutes," I say standing up. "I'm sorry but I have got to go now..." the lady squeezes my hand. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I know," she replies, " thank you."

Quickly I depart turning to sprint up the corridor toward the ED. Ron has the rig out, and radio's that he is pulling up to the main entrance and he meets me there. Climbing in and slamming the door I buckle in as we head out into the night. Part of me feels bad, having to leave the lady as I had. I also find it ironic how I wound up leaving behind the dead to race out after the living.

Later on that morning before I get off shift, I find myself again up in the third floor hallway. The lady is long gone. I never did find out her name, or his for that matter. When I pass by Room 319 I glance inside. The lights are on, but nobody is there. The body is gone now and the bed sits vacant, no bedding on it, just the blue mattress waiting to be remade for the next patient. Thats how it goes in a hospital, life goes on.