Midnight Ramblings...

Last night, 11:30, I quietly crawled into bed, fumbled for my book light and opened up to the 17th chapter of the book I'm reading: Intern by Sandeep Jauhar. The chapter told about a couple, young and childless, who were in the hospital yet again because the husband was inevitably dying of the cancer that was ravaging his lungs. Dr. Jauhar knew that it was time to have the "DNR talk" (DNR=do not resuscitate) in case he quit breathing on his own. I'll spare you the long story of how the chapter played out, but I was wholeheartedly drawn in and empathizing with what the wife must have been going through sitting in the chair next to her husband's hospital bed watching him slowly slip away.

1:40 a.m. I wake up to Corey saying my name in a way that informed me immediately that something was not right. I sprung up as if I'd never been asleep to see the right side of the bed empty ("where is he?!?!"). I sprang out of bed to find him on the floor outside of the bathroom. I grabbed my phone and immediately started to dial 911. I was for sure that he was dying (was it lung cancer?!?). I yelled at him, "Babe. What is wrong?!" Do I need to call 911?!?!!?!" I could literally hear my heart beating.

It's amazing what all can circulate your brain in about a 30 second span of time. The same visions I had when I was reading my book hours before I was having again - this time with the faces filled in with mine and Corey's.

After the longest 10 seconds ever, Corey slowly said that he was having severe stomach pain (laying outside of the bathroom as to not be too far away from it). Me: Ahhhh.....deep breath. It's not a heart attack or brain aneurysm...I can handle stomach pains... (the things you think of when you're surrounded by medical stories day in, day out). "Okay, well...do you need some Pepto Bismol?". He nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity of my comment ("Okay he's not gonna die, I thought to myself.").

The incident proved to be nothing more then food that did not sit well and Corey was off with his white coat and stethoscope early this morning.

As you can imagine, I had a bit of a hard time falling back asleep. I know that my initial reaction was totally exaggerated because of the book I had just been reading. Nonetheless, the vision of the hospital room with the dying husband laying in the bed and the heart-sickened wife sitting next to watching her Love slip away, made me very happy that we were both in bed at home, happy and healthy (minus some angry intestines).

I believe that I have a realistic and healthy view of life, but last night was a reminder that life as we see/know it can be changed in a moment's time. I was reminded that the things my heart is longing for are fine and normal, but not to be so focused on them that I lose sight of what's right next to me ...