One Year On – Part 4

Recollections

I make my way through the ambulance bay, concentrating on the sounds of the city, instead of the thoughts in my head. The sound of the El thundering away, the sound of engines roaring and stuttering over and over; the tale tell signs of a major traffic jam somewhere close by. And I think to myself how glad I am that I walked to work today. I steal a quick glance to look at my watch, and discover that I'm close to half an hour early.

I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not. It'll give me some time to prepare for the day ahead, but it means that I have to spend an extra 30 minutes reliving that day. I could go for a walk, get away from here for a short time, at least that would give me some space to think, but I fear that I'd get lost in that space, and not want to come back here. Ever.

And that's something that I can't do. Not just because I would be leaving everyone behind, but also because it would mean that it had beaten me. That although the actual nightmare is over, its deep, dark shadow would remain. And in some ways it already does.

I slip into the lounge unnoticed, well, I hope at least. I want a few moments to myself.

I'm only on a six-hour shift today, thank god. I don't think I could handle much more. Being in the same place, on the same day, with the same people . . . God, I really can't bring myself to remember. But as I look toward the table, I'm forced into it. A copy of the Chicago Times lays slightly crumpled upon it, the sign that someone has already read it. Probably by the same forces that are compelling me to read it too.

I remove it gently from its resting place, as if it's some kind of sacred parchment. I glance at the front page. I can't really miss the headline: Chicago Remembers. It takes up most of the front page, and gives the impression that people might have forgotten what day it is. Maybe some people have. I haven't. Neither has anyone else in this hospital.

I read the article. Taking each word in at a time.

The people of Chicago, as well as the whole nation, are today remembering the tragic outbreak of a lethal virus that claimed a total of 218 victims. Memorial services are being held across the city, and are expected to be attended by hundreds.

The outbreak started at the Cook County General hospital, and quickly spread throughout the city. Officials still haven't confirmed the exact source of the virus, although several links have been made to South Africa. Also officials have failed to say whether there are any suspicious circumstances surrounding it.

I can't read anymore. I get through the first column, and can feel the tears welling behind my eyes. I don't want to let them fall; I don't want to give in. I let the feeling pass, and replace the paper on the table, ready for the next pair of eyes that are attracted to it.

I take a second glance at my watch, and I'm surprised that half an hour has already passed. Surprised, but pleased. If only the rest of the day would go as quick. I pull the small pill bottle from my pocket, and place it on the table, as I get a glass of water.

I will never forget what this day is. I won't be allowed to. Everyday I take the pills that allow me to survive. And every time that I do, I remember. They act as a trigger. And every time I take them, the thoughts and memories are stirred, and make it to the forefront of my mind.

Just like they're flooding through now. I remember as though it was yesterday. I remember everything. From the moment the John Doe came in, to the painful stares of Kerry. From the moment I hit the cold, hard floor of trauma one, to the moment I finally came round, just over 3 weeks later. How I lasted that long no one knows, not even me. The moment that I gave in to my failing body was the moment, I believed, I had given my life. But how grateful I am to have made it can't be put into words.

Those aren't the only memories that are stirred though. Memories of my recovery are also recollected. I had to stay in hospital for another 8 long, painful weeks. But Carter, John, was there with me every step of the way. And that's made us stronger than ever.

My heart may not be physically as strong as it used to be, but in emotion and love, it's excelled. And all for one man.

A few weeks later, when I finally returned to work, doing reduced shifts, he proposed to me, in front of all the ER staff. Before, I would have crucified him for it. But now, I couldn't have wished for a better way. He even got down on one knee.

You hear people describing their other half as their rock. Before, I never thought I would understand that concept. I never even thought I would get married again, let alone find someone. But Carter truly is my rock. When I needed someone to lean on, he never backed off. He was there for me, and he still is.

I gaze down at the glistening diamond ring. We're getting married in just under two weeks, and I can't wait.

But first, I have to get through this day. We all do.

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That's part 4 everyone! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!

With it being close to the anniversary of September 11th, I just want to say that we remember all those who died, and think of their families and those who survived.

Well part 5 will be here sometime, but please review in the mean time. Also don't flame me if the Chicago Times doesn't exist, living in the UK, I wouldn't know!

That's it for now, 'til next time. . . .

Rainbow345uk