Surviving the Storm

When I would go to get food seeing the families that would get out on the ICU floor, my body would tense up, my heart would beat fast, and that crippling fear would overwhelm me.

On one of these occasions, I was going up to the recovery floor. A gentleman came in and stood there as the elevator started to move. He said, "my son is here," I said. I am sorry to hear that. He went on without acknowledging what I had said. "He is here. He fell off a horse during a competition. He has a traumatic brain injury and his jaw. ........ I don't know how. But his jaw is broken in so many places." I stood there, knowing nothing would make him feel better. He started to cry and say, " I wasn't there." The doors opened, and he walked out.

I remember when I was in that state. It felt like the eye of a storm. You are in the middle of everything, you aren't safe, but you can see everything flying around you. That's how I felt. When people would say something to me, I would see their mouths move, but I didn't hear them. So the best I could do for this gentleman was to listen. People listening to me was one of the most beneficial ways to process what had happened.

Having someone to listen to was like a lifeline. As if someone was throwing me a rope to grab onto so I could survive.

I am thankful for all the ropes that helped and continue to help me survive the storm.