It is hard to believe that seven months have passed since my hubs fell on our driveway while blowing off fallen leaves.
After our arrival at the hospital which is a designated major trauma center, we found the staff waiting for us outside the ER doors. They wasted no time in whisking him through some swinging doors while I was taken to a waiting area. At this point, I am thinking that hubs just has a concussion--that they will bring him around and come get me and we'll all laugh at how silly the whole incident was. My daughter arrived from work shortly after to wait with me and we were not particularly concerned at that moment.
One hour later a staff member invites us to wait in a small private room; a clergyman then walks in and starts making small talk with us. We still have no clue as to what is really going on behind those swinging doors. Finally a member of the Trauma Team (a neurosurgeon) comes to join us. I ask her if he is conscious and she gives me an odd look and then proceeds to enumerate all the things that are going wrong for the hubs. He has a very large subdural hematoma and a subarachnoid bleed in some very crucial parts of his brain. He is in a deep coma. They think he may not survive the night. I am frozen; convinced that someone is playing a bad joke on me. How could this be? He didn't fall off a roof; or while hiking in Colorado as he does every summer. He was cleaning our driveway. I felt a surreal mist surrounding me as a gazed at the neurosurgeon. I need clarification...."Are you actually telling me my husband could die tonight?", I asked her. She very calmly nodded and clarified that, actually, the next 5 days and nights would most likely be touch and go in terms of whether he would make it or not.
I remember holding my daughter as she cried. But as for myself, all I can remember is numbness. Somehow we were taking to a special trauma ICU waiting area where we could spend the night. Thus began the watch which lasted for many days more than anyone expected. To be continued....
