My head is spinning and I feel sick. Why didn’t stay right next to her after she asked? “Baby? Baby? Are you okay?”
I have been here before, lifting her up off the ground but each time it happens my heart breaks just a little deeper and I feel like I am losing years off my existence. Honestly, I feel like each time this happens I am losing her, like one of these times she’s not going to answer when I ask if she’s okay and this time is no exception.
Seeing her on the ground face-down, unconscious, unresponsive. She’s taking too long to respond. “Babe, can you hear me?” All I can think is the next time I won’t browse at the end of the aisle, I’ll stand right by her side. The next time…why does there have to be a next time?
She just nods. Why isn’t she talking? Is she trying to gain composure and hold back tears in front of these little girls? Or is she confused and can’t speak? I can’t read her eyes. They are glassy and clear but filled with fog. I have no idea what to say, what to do. “Do you want to sit for minute?”
If this thing that happens had a name. If someone could just label this condition, prescribe some medication or give us a plan of action. I don’t know what to do. I try to remain calm. What should I do? I always suggest, no push for going to the hospital. I know that when I do I usually face resistance, an argument, a debate if you will about the point of going. Why should she go if the never have an answer? Why should she go if the only thing they are going to say is to not drive? I understand her frustration but how else do we break this cycle? “Come on, let’s go.”
I see her frustration at the lack of concern by the emergency room staff. I see the frustration build to anger because she feels like she hasn’t been heard. I witness the anger purge in her tears. I keep my anger to myself. I remain silent. I can’t put words to what I’m feeling. I’m frustrated. I’m angry. I’m tired. I’m scared.
I want answers just as much as she does. I’ve listened to all the doctors say “I have no idea. It’s not a neurological problem. It’s not a cardiac problem. We have ran all the test and everything seems normal.” Let me be the first, or the second, to tell you that falling out at the drop of a hat without warning is not ‘normal’. Picking your wife up off the floor of a major grocery chain is not normal.
Days like these are beyond frustrating, they are life altering. I have grown by leaps and bounds over the past 5 years and it wasn’t easy. I have torn down walls and opened doors. I have focused on goals and planted seeds. I have blended my world into a mixture that I am happy to call home. She has been an accelerant to my growth and for that I love her but it’s not the only reason. After a day like today I want to put life on pause, focus on her because life without her would just be existing.