In the ER, Part Four


When I finally realized my husband had walked in the door, it was like heaven had ripped open and poured rain on the drought-stricken desert. I had been helping hold B2 down again while two nurses with matching reading glasses poked at him with their IV needle. They looked kind of adorable moving their glasses up and down together, chatting about veins as if they were skeins of yarn. In times of crisis, the smallest details seem to carry the greatest significance.

Once they finally found success, I turned away to breathe and found my man standing behind me.

"[Husband], I am so glad you're here! How long have you been waiting? No, wait, please don't move: I'll be right back."

I realized, all at once, that I hadn't been to the bathroom for many, many hours. After weaving through the throngs of humanity that peopled the hallway, I managed to quickly rectify that unfortunate situation. Then, I ran to return to my men.

When I came back to the room, my giant husband was crouched down next to my tiny child curled up on the gurney.

"It's going to be alright, pal. Just hang tight until your mom gets back."

Sometimes I am blown away by how much I can love another person.

"Better?" he asked as he slowly stood before me.

"Much," I replied. "You have no idea."

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