When the nurses didn’t respond to us, Sam went into action. He pushed past the nurses and went screaming into the hall. “We need help!”
In less than a minutes, more nurses rushed into the room, rolling machines on carts, then pushing needles and tubes into me, hooking me up to life machines. As soon as I was connected to the machines, they shrilled warnings that something was wrong. The machines told the nurses what I’d been saying.
I was in trouble.
Now, I heard the patter of running footsteps and the room filled with more hospital personnel.
“What’s happening here?” I heard someone yell.
If I could have answered, I would have told him that I was struggling to live. But the words wouldn’t come out as I held myself up using the bed rails.
Chaos filled the room. Nurses pushed in crash carts. The doctor yelled out orders. And the whole time I screamed. “Help me!”
Another nurse ran into the room and her eyes locked with mine. “Hello, Beautiful,” she said as she shone a light into my right eye, then my left. Her words, her tone showed me her kindness. “I’m going to help you. Tell me what’s happening.”
The weight of my head was too much for me to hold it up and I let my chin fall to my chest. I wheezed, “I. Can’t. Breathe.”