Womens Interests > My Day in the E.R.
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Article rating : 0.00, 0 votes. Author : Marsha Jordan
I was driving home from church one snowy Sunday when my van skidded on a patch of ice and overturned. As the ambulance transported me to the hospital, police phoned the husband to notify him.
I lay in the emergency room eagerly waiting for him to come. “What could be keeping him?” I asked the nurse.
“Well, the police said they can’t reach him,” she explained.
“But I know he’s home,” I told her. “He wasn’t planning to leave the house today. He’s working on his boat.”
“I need to check on your x-rays,” she said, walking to the door. “I’ll see if there is any news on your husband too.”
When she came back, she told me, “The police are still trying to reach him. They’ve called several times but they got no answer. They even went to your house, but nobody came to the door when they knocked. They did talk to your neighbor, though. He said he’d go into your house, find your husband, and let him know you’re here.”
I fumed for hours until that evening when the husband finally arrived. I was more than a little perturbed.
”Where in the world have you been?”
I demanded.
“I was in the basement all day,” was his innocent reply.
"Weren’t you curious about why I didn't come home from church this morning?" I asked through clenched teeth.
“I was busy and didn't notice the time,” he said. “I thought you were just on an all-day shopping marathon.”
My temper was ready to blow like a bald tire on a Volkswagon bus. “Why didn’t you answer the door or the phone?” I snapped.
“I didn’t hear them,” he said defensively. “The neighbor didn’t come over and give me the message till five o’clock.”
“Five o’clock?” I shrieked. “It’s seven thirty now! What took you so long to get here?”
He winced as if he knew his answer wasn’t going to please me. Then he stammered, “Well . . . I had to . . . stop . . . at the junk yard to see the damage to the car.”
Lucky for him I was restrained by a back brace. If I hadn’t been strapped to the table, he might have needed emergency surgery - to remove my purse from his forehead.
Marsha Jordan
Author of "Hugs, Hope, and Peanut Butter"
hugsandhope@gmail.com
www.hugsandhope.org
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