“It is a small crime for which I have no excuse. I gave up. In that moment I stopped being the strong successful entrepreneur that everyone had come to know me, as and fell back into my weakness; into my fear. I asked no one if it was OK There was no projection for what was ahead. Most importantly, there was no Plan B. This was my moment. It was my prayer, and I asked God to make it my last.
As they rushed me past the sliding glass doors of the Emergency Room, the medics parted like the red sea and quickly took their positions alongside the barking EMT above me. A small Asian woman leaned in from the right, as if it was her life mission to conquer the large gurney in front of her. She quickly grabbed my arm and pointed a small silver flash light into my eyes. Had I not been through this modern marvel we call emergency medicine a million and a half times before, I may have thought for a second that this was some sort of torture, in which the medical facility makes sure that if you did not come in with a serious medical condition, you’ll definitely leave with one after you are blinded by the flashing lights and nurses who constantly want to open your eye lids to check if you are still there.
To be honest I do not know why everyone is getting into such a fuss. It is probably nothing. Exhaustion; sometimes a woman needs a break. So I panicked. I gave up for one moment. I was being selfish. I know this. But it happens. Sometimes I just want to stop fighting for everyone and everything around me. I got tired. I got weak. I couldn’t be strong anymore. I just didn’t know how to hold on. I wanted to let go. There was nothing left here for me, so why suffer with the pain?
I remember the moments leading up to the blackness. I remember my senses sounding like an alarm within my body. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed so many things about my surroundings then I did in that moment. I remember hearing the bustling of the doctors, nurses, and EMTs as they charged through the hospital with electrodes and monitors, hearing the beeps of the machines capturing the sounds of my every breath as it came and went from my body, and I remember calling out to my Mom as she stood there watching the medics work on my lifeless body. That was the moment that made me realize all my screaming; all my questions; the words that I had been projecting from my mouth; they had all somehow, been silenced. No one could hear me.
I remember seeing the motions of the people moving around me. I remember feeling so small, as I looked up to see the heads of complete strangers who held my life in their hands. I had no control. The lights of the monitors that flashed above me were as electrifying as the lights of a Las Vegas casino, only this time the gamble was my life
I must have made a million vows to myself in those last few seconds. As I started to smell the rubbing alcohol that had caressed the room with its presence, lingering over every space and crack in the building; I started to panic. I know that smell. I know what it means. Where there is rubbing alcohol there is sterile equipment. Where there is sterile equipment there are procedures. Where there are procedures, there is cutting… there is pain. I can’t take any more pain. This has to stop!
I remember the frustration that came over me as I tried to scream. “Listen!” I proclaimed at the top of my voice. “I am fine. I am still here. Wait!”
In those moments before the blackness, I could taste everything. The smell of the rubbing alcohol must have awakened my taste buds. For the first time, I had a real understanding of my hatred for martinis. The instant smell of the rubbing alcohol had placed the taste of bitter, cold vodka in my mouth. It was as real as if I had swirled the olives myself; only it wasn’t. None of it felt real.
I could smell the soap on the orderlies’ hands and immediately the taste of Irish Spring shot through my mouth reminding me of all the times I was made to literally, eat my words as a kid. For the first time I didn’t regret the memory, I cherished it. I knew that it was one of few I still had and I wanted more. I began to realize that the flashes and visions before me were simply the past, but I wanted a future.
I saw the doctors standing across the room, backs to me, reviewing my charts. I was present. I was there in the room. I was coming back. I heard the monitors start to sound their alarms as if to warn me that something was about to happen. I tasted the air. For one quick moment, I could actually taste the breeze of the air. Like a cloud scanning my lips, I closed my eyes to capture the embrace of its kiss; and smiled. The moment froze. Time stood still. Like something from an old black and white romance movie, I had the moment. The moment of peace that brings you back from places unknown. I was ready.
I remember opening my eyes as if this was the last time I would ever sleep, but I still couldn’t move. I tried with everything I had inside of me to move my lips, to say something. I grabbed the cord of the monitor, tugging at it as I watched my pulse rate slowly drop. The last things I saw were the heaps and valleys of the monitor diminish and the lines go flat. That was when I entered the darkness.
