Preview I - Rollercoaster Ride

Our First Day In Hell

Chapter I

Tuesday, August 22

I always felt that if something happened to anyone close to me, I would know. But I didn't until I received that life-altering phone call. It was the phone call no one ever wants to receive. I had waved goodbye to Larry from the doorway when he left on his motorcycle at 9:30 a.m. on August 22nd. I then went into the backyard to paint a lattice we were going to put around the hot tub to give us more privacy from the neighbors.

At 10:30 the friend he was supposed to be meeting at 10:00 a.m. phoned to say Larry had not arrived. A faint wave of apprehension washed over me but there was still no major premonition. I pushed the thread of uneasiness away. Maybe this was one of the rare times he was late. Maybe he had to stop somewhere first and got held up. Maybe traffic was bad. Maybe there was construction. There were many reasons why someone could be late; I knew them all. I tried to concentrate on my painting.

At 11:00 a.m. when his friend telephoned again, I could no longer ignore the uneasiness. Putting the brush down I tried to think of what to do. Should I drive the route I thought he might have taken? Maybe his motorcycle had broken down. Maybe he had run out of gas. I didn't try his cell because I knew he couldn't hear the ring above the noise of the motorcycle. I was still pondering the problem when the phone call came at 11:15 a.m.

"Hello, is this Sylvia? This is Karen. I'm the social worker at the Emergency at Royal Columbian Hospital." As soon as I heard 'Royal Columbian Hospital', I knew immediately that the call had to be very serious because anyone injured in Surrey would normally go to Surrey Memorial Hospital.

I broke down, barely able to speak. She said, "He's alive but it's very serious. Do you have someone who can drive you?"

"I think so." I was barely able to think coherently.

I called my daughter but she said that my grandson had just broken his leg and they had just returned from the hospital. "Oh Mom, I can't move him. He's in so much pain."

Unable to remember how to get to the hospital, I asked her for directions. My brain had literally turned to mush and any previous knowledge of how to get there had evaporated.

Unable to stop the floodgate of tears, I cried the whole way there, praying that Larry would be alive. Finally, after what seemed to be hours later I arrived at the parking lot but was completely stymied by the parking meter. With my non-functioning brain I had no idea how to use the machine to get a ticket. While tears continued to stream down my face I asked a young lady for assistance. Looking at me strangely, she explained and finally, with shaking hands, I managed to get my Visa card into the slot provided.

Karen, the social worker, met me in the Emergency and led me to a Family Room. "They are stabilizing him and then he'll be going for a CT scan. I'll let you know when you can see him. A doctor will come and speak to you and let you know the extent of his injuries."

Unable to speak, I could only nod.

With no one there until my children began to show up, my only company was the terrifying images that plagued my thoughts. I could not control my flood of tears and no matter how many times I brushed them aside, they continued to fall. It was like trying to contain water in a bag made of cloth. The half hour or so I sat alone in that room with my brain alternating between mush and the horrible images that cascaded through my head, my usually calm nature did not hold up very well.