The call is still fresh in my mind. The call was from Gabby. She was calling to tell me some news.
“Ian was having chest pains so I took him to the hospital” Gabby said.
“Is he alright?” I asked “Where is he?”
“When he got to the hospital, he suffered a heart attack on the hospital floor. He died for 5 minutes, but they brought him back to life. Once he was alive again, they placed him in a coma. I will let you know when I get more information.” with that Gabby hung up.
I dropped to the floor, clinging the phone handle, and cried like I had never done before. I sat there until the beeping of the phone became louder and louder. I placed the phone on the hook, and went to my room. I threw myself on the bed, and cried for hours on end. So many questions ran through my head. What had caused this to happen? Were you going to survive this? Would the coma help you? Then the biggest question of all. Did something happen because of the drugs you use?
I finally fell asleep late that night. Only to have nightmares all night long about you dying and leaving me. The next morning the waiting began. I would spend every available minute I had sitting by the phone. Waiting for Gabby to call me back with news. I had no idea where you were or which hospital you were in. Finally after a month, Gabby left a message on my answering machine. They tried to bring you out of the coma several time, and each time you end up suffering a stroke. In the end you had suffered 3 strokes on top of the heart attack. The doctors had no idea if you would be the same when they brought you out of the coma in another week. She would call again when she had more news. That was all she said, and then hung up. I still had no way of contacting her. So the waiting began again.
I would not hear from her again for two more months. Once again I came home to a message on my machine, saying that the doctor were unsure if you would ever be the same. They had brought you out of the coma, and realized the brain damage from the strokes had been severe. You were now mentally and physically disabled. You were not able to talk, walk, or eat on your own.
That is all she said. I still had no way of contacting her. It was two years before I heard from her again. What a horrible two years that was. You were on my mind every minute of every day. Where you alright? Had you died? Or had you gotten better?