News Account
Like any other weekday night at 10pm, the girls were asleep in their room and Jing Mei was at work on her laptop. She was working on improved procedures for burn wounds and had found an interesting article written up in a medical journal. She used her search engine to find sources of information to cross reference the procedures contained in the article.
In this process, she happened upon a link to the Chicago Tribune. It caught her eye because the small description under the link mentioned that a Cook County Hospital doctor was caught in an explosion. She thought it was probably Romano versus exploding helicopter falling from the sky. She clicked on the link as that particular incident involved a lot of burn injuries, but the link was not about the burning helicopter that killed Romano at all. It was about an event that happened just hours ago.
She read on even as the pit of her stomach found room to drop. Audibly she gasped "oh my God!" It was Gregg Pratt. He died as a result of his injuries when an ambulance exploded. She sat back in her chair not fully able to assimilate the news.
It was not that she still harbored any romantic feelings for him, more that he was so young and so alive and the tragedy was so senseless. He was a really good doctor. This was a serious loss to medicine, and more specifically, to County.
She pondered over the time they had worked together, the work she'd seen him do. She remembered that even after they broke up, he was still her friend. Actually, he was a better friend after they broke up. It was such a shame, such a tragic, senseless loss.
She thought about calling County, but after four years, would there even be anyone that remembered her? Would it mean anything to anyone to let them know how much loss she felt for them?
A few key strokes led her to his obituary. She stared at it for a long while.
She picked up her phone and fingers shaking, she dialed.
Her voice quivering, she told the person on the other end of the line "I'd like to send flowers please".
"United States, Chicago."
"Davidson's Funeral Home, on Kilbourn Avenue".
"Pratt, Gregg Pratt."
"The sentiment?" She thought for a moment. It was hard to know what to say at this point. She was still numb from the shock. She took a deep breath to try and compose herself, and simply told the florist to write "My thoughts and prayers are with you."
"Chen, Jing Mei Chen..."
"My card? Just a minute" She got her purse and rummaged through it. Even the simple task of getting her wallet and retrieving her credit card proved challenging for her shaking fingers.
Having provided the billing information, she hung up the phone. She buried her face in her hands, and alone in the night, she cried.