Round Eight: Heartbreak pt 1

It's taken me longer to write this post. Writing these memories means that I am reliving them in my head. My mind is back in the moment and this chapter is hard to relive. My head was in a tornado that night. Even now as I prepare to delve back into the darkness of that night... my heart is racing. With a deep breath and tissue at hand... my mind travels back.

It's close to midnight on June 18, 2005. Momma and I are watering our newly planted flowers and the hanging baskets on the porch. I squeal because a frog jumped at me. Momma laughs and turns the sprayer towards the frog. She tumbles it off the porch with a burst of water. We laugh harder and harder at each frog as she sends them off the porch with a watery send off.

In mid laugh,  Momma sharply inhaled.  Again... and again. I spin around to face her. She drops the hose and grabs the rail,  her face ashen and devoid of color. She is making a God awful noise I'll never forget and words cannot describe.  Between the weezy gasps, she tells me to get the orange juice,  she thought her blood sugar had bottomed out.  The past week she had been getting used to a diabetic life style. She was just diagnosed a week ago.

I fling open the front door and sprint into the kitchen. My hands shaking I grab the orange juice and a cup. I pour the orange juice while running back into the living room. Orange juice is splashing everywhere as I round the corner of the dinning room. I look up and see Momma lowering herself to the floor beside the door. She is loosing consciousness.  I kneel down in front of her and grab her chin. I put the glass to her lips and tip it back. Orange juice runs down her face. "Momma! DRINK! " I pleaded. She is going in and out. I tip her head with the glass this time. She gurgles. "I'm calling 911, Momma! " she barely nods.

I call and the operator walks me through CPR. I follow her instructions,  but everytime I blew air in it came straight back out sounding like a wet balloon deflating. My guess was her airway had completely shut. After what seemed to be an eternity,  the paramedics arrived. I felt physically sick watching them work on her. The worst feeling was when they put the automated defibrillator on her and it kept saying,  "no pulse." My mouth instantly felt like the Sahara desert and my knees betrayed me.

They loaded her on the stretcher and continued working as they loaded her. They asked if I was going to ride or follow. Ride or follow? ! What about Daddy? !?! Oh,  God!  It was then I could hear him sobbing and calling my name. "Whats going on? !" He cried. I turned to the EMS worker,  "my dad is sick,  I can't leave him... can you pleeeeeease take him with us? " He said he was sorry but he couldn't.

My mind raced... I did the only thing I could think to do. I told the EMS to hold on and ran next door. I scared my neighbor,  but when she came to the door I begged her to come sit with daddy while I went with Momma.  I'm sure about 90 percent of what I said was unintelligible, but she agreed. I ran in and told daddy I loved him and I had to go with Momma. He asked if she was okay... I tried to keep a straight face as I said "I don't know. I love you! " and I ran out.

We arrived at the hospital and I walked around to the ER entrance. Me and my teddy bear, I grabbed him at the last second, were escorted to the quiet room. FYI... quiet rooms are never good.