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Page 4

by Julie Allen, Carla Davis, & Monica Brooks


  Chapter Three

  I was out of it for the next hour or so as we made our way along the same path that my parents took on their way to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary which was actually not for another couple of days. Were they even going to be able to celebrate now? I didn’t know how severe their injuries were, so I couldn’t even speculate.

  But I suddenly sat at attention as the vehicle came to a halt in front of a road block and flashing lights. We weren’t quite to the wreck yet, but they had put blocks several hundred feet back so that they can send cars to the exit off the highway because it was closed. Sheriff Tate rolled down his window as a man approached wearing a uniform as well. “This is their daughter,” the sheriff explained, pointing over to me. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to smile and wave, so I just sat there and stared out the window, preparing myself to see what had become of my father’s old truck.

  The man in uniform went over to some of the other people out there and started moving some of the barrier so that we could get through. There was a wrecker on the scene already that was blocking my view as we drove slowly forward. “I apologize that you have to see this. It takes a while to clean things up. But I assure you, there is no one left at the scene. All parties have been taken to the hospital.” The way he said that made me wonder if something bad had happened to the other driver.

  As we approached, the first thing I saw were the tire marks. It looked like someone swerved while trying to hit the brakes. I assumed that was my father. Then, as we passed, I looked to my right and saw something terrifying. It was a large truck of some kind, like one belonging to a business, that had hit my father’s truck. Not only had my father’s truck flipped, it had been slammed straight into the guardrail. It resembled a twisted piece of blue metal on the driver’s side as compared to the passenger’s side. That side was dented in where the other truck seemed to have hit it a second time right at the front passenger side headlight.

  I felt instantly sick to my stomach and was glad as we passed the end of the blocked off section of the highway and began to speed up. We would soon be passing South Fork Estates before switching highway to head northwest to Laredo. It was going to be a long ride still, and I had no idea what had become of my parents. I just kept seeing that smashed up hunk of blue metal and imagining what injuries could have been sustained and how anyone would come out of that without at least being paralyzed. I loved my parents, but I was not ready to care for them like children yet, nor was I ready to say goodbye. But I couldn’t think that way. I just had to stay focused and make it to the hospital before I came to any conclusions.

  When we finally pulled into the hospital, I looked around and had a hard time imagining sick people inside. It could have easily been some kind of luxury hotel. There was a huge, gated pond out front with a fountain, and the exterior reminded me of a Spanish adobe. It was ridiculously beautiful.

  Sheriff Tate walked inside with me to make sure that I was going to get the information I needed. It was after eight at night so the front desk wasn’t manned. We had to actually walk back to the desk in the emergency department where the nurses were sitting. They seemed to all be chatting as if there weren’t patients around them with fatal injuries. It was a very busy hospital, so I assumed there had to be patients around. We walked up to a woman in blue scrubs who smiled up at us. “Hello, there, who are ya’ll looking for?” she asked sweetly. Sheriff smiled back and took his hat off out of courtesy as he leaned into the counter.

  “I am the sheriff in Guerra, and this woman’s parents were flown in here after a car wreck outside of town. I just want to make sure she speaks to somebody and gets the information she needs about them. I wasn’t given much myself. Their last name is Milligan.” He cleared his throat as the woman began typing on her computer.

  “Alright, I’m just going to look up their location to see if they are up in Trauma or in surgery. They could even be here in the Emergency department. Then, I can better direct her to where she needs to go.” The smile was still on her face as she scrolled with her mouse, but I swore I saw a slight twitch before she looked back up at us.

  “Doctor Wayland is overseeing their cases, so I’ll page him and see if he can come and talk to you about the condition of your parents. Until then, you can wait in the family room up in Trauma on the third floor. You’ll see a small door next to the elevators that’s labeled when you get to the third floor. Just go on in and make yourself feel at home. There’s a bathroom in there as well as some tea and coffee.” I nodded and turned to the sheriff.

  “I have it from here, but thank you for bringing me all this way.” It came out really formal, like I was doing business with someone. I supposed you never knew how you would handle that sort of situation until you were in it. Sheriff Tate shook my hand and put his hat back on his head before walking out of the room. I took a deep breath and followed the signs leading to the elevators and rode one up to the third floor. It was really fast, almost nauseatingly so, but it was very quiet. You could tell a lot about a place by how well the elevators ran. It gave some comfort about the treatment of my parents.

  I found the room that the woman had mentioned and walked in to find that there was a man in a coat who I assumed was Dr. Wayland already sitting there and waiting on me. That was awfully fast, which I thought was strange and possibly a bad sign. Shouldn’t he be busy taking care of my parents?

  He stood up as I entered the room and held out his hand for me to shake. “I am Dr. Wayland; I’m assuming you are Ms. Milligan?” he asked, shaking my hand a little less firm than I expected from a doctor. He was tall and lanky, towering over me awkwardly. He even seemed to hang his shoulders to try and get closer to my level. “Why don’t we take a seat so we can talk about your parents?” He gestured to some typical waiting room seats. Though, I couldn’t help but notice the room was more the size of a large office and had less than ten chairs in it.

  I followed his instruction anyway and sat down. “Feel free to get a cup of coffee or some tea first. I find that some of that orange tea over there calms my nerves,” the doctor continued. I wondered for a moment if he was trying to avoid something like bad news. But I went over to the table that had a fresh pot of coffee and some hot water ready for tea. I chose some lemongrass tea and some honey chamomile both in a large Styrofoam cup. Then, I sat down once again, ready to get the show on the road.

  “Alright, can you please tell me about my parents now, doctor?” I asked as my whole body threatened to shake apart from the anxiety that was building. Dr. Wayland sighed and wiped at his brow and ran his fingers through his dark hair. All the antics had stopped.

  “This isn’t any easier for me than it is for you. It is sometimes the worst part of my job. From what we can tell, your father passed on impact. He was pinned against the guardrail by the vehicle after it hit your parents’ car for the second time. There was nothing that could be done for him. I’m sorry.” He reached out to touch my hand gently in comfort, but it felt more strange and invasive than anything else. Was he saying what I think he was saying?

  “So, he’s gone, then?” There was that strange emotionless voice coming from my mouth again. It was odd because on the inside I felt like I was exploding at the seams, but on the outside I could do nothing but go through the logical motions.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. Of course, you’ll have to go down and officially identify the body. It’s just something that’s unfortunately necessary,” the doctor responded. “I’ll have a nurse escort you down when you’re ready.” He nodded like it was the most natural thing. I shifted so that his hand fell off of mine. He cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair once again.

  “Wait, so if I have to identify his body, where is my mother?” It had just occurred to me he said nothing of her. Maybe she was still alive, though I couldn’t imagine giving her the news that she had lost her husband just before their 30th anniversary.

  “Your mother’s condition is much more complicat
ed. She had some internal injuries we had to deal with right away, and she needed blood transfusions. After we took care of her immediate needs, we ordered some tests, mainly a CT scan for her brain. She was unconscious when they brought her in. It looks to me like she has some significant brain damage. She needs some help breathing, and we aren’t sure if she’s going to wake up or if she will be functional. What we do next is up to you. We could certainly keep her hooked up to see if her condition changes. We could give it a time limit and then unplug the machines and see if she can breathe on her own. Or you can review the test results yourself and decide if you think it’s best we just let her go. We assume you’re familiar with her wishes when it comes to things like this, but she didn’t have a DNR.”

  I sat there, completely stunned. My father was dead. There was no way to sugar coat that. And my mother was in a coma with brain damage and may or may not have been a vegetable at that point. The worst part was they wanted me to make a decision as to whether or not she lived or died. I couldn’t even bring myself to say anything. How would anyone handle something like that? I had no idea what my mother would have wanted. We didn’t talk about stuff like that. I was only 24.

  As my mind was warring with itself, Doctor Wayland decided to make my decision for me. “Why don’t you go ahead and take care of your father and then I can take you in to see your mother. We’ll go over all the test results and possibilities then. That will give you some time to process this and think about it. Let me go get a nurse who can take you down.” He patted my hand again and left the room. It was strange that he thought a little time was all I needed. It was going to take a lot longer to process the fact that I was possibly about to lose both my parents in one night.

  A nurse came into the room and motioned for me to follow her. We took the elevator down to the basement floor which I assumed was where my father was being kept. She must have realized the kind of mood I might be in because she didn’t say much of anything unless she had to. I really appreciated that. My thoughts were all over the place, and I had no idea how to talk to a human at the moment.

  “This is as far as I go,” she said in front of the silver door that led into the morgue. I already felt a chill standing in front of it. “Doctor Stone is in there waiting for you.” She nodded to me and headed back upstairs, leaving me alone in that cold hallway. I took a deep breath and went inside, not sure what to expect.

  “Hello?” I said to the doctor whose back was to me, shivering where I stood. He turned around and smiled at me awkwardly. He was a young man not too much older than myself with red hair and glasses. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it. “I’m the daughter of Ron Milligan,” I said timidly, and he just nodded. I guess he didn’t know how to talk to me either. He rolled out a covered body and handed me a clipboard with a sheet to sign. I read over it and saw that it was just for me to confirm the identity of the body or that I didn’t recognize it.

  As he pulled back the sheet I found myself hoping that it was a mistake. It was going to be some stranger under there, and I would find out that my parents were just fine on their way to Galveston still. But even through the many injuries, I knew it was him. The doctor covered him back up as I nodded and signed the clipboard, handing it back to him.

  I ran, taking the elevator back up to that family room with the tea. I went straight to the bathroom and emptied anything that was still in my stomach into the porcelain bowl in front of me. The worst part was knowing that it was only the beginning. Before I knew it I would be saying goodbye to my mother too because as soon as I saw my father it all became too real. I knew I was going through what no one ever wanted to go through.

 

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