few minutes could make a difference.
As I cross the street, I see Merel emerge from the front door of Atlanta Memorial and make a beeline for the bench too.
“Merel?” I say quickly as we reach the bench at the same time.
He looks up, and I realize he’s crying. “Oh, Jill. Hello, dear.”
“Merel, what’s wrong?”
His face crumples. “It’s my wife. Ernestine. I—I lost her. They told me the surgery was going well, but she died, Jill. Right there on the operating table.”
“Oh, Merel.” I pull him into a hug. “I’m so, so sorry.” I can feel his body shaking.
“How am I supposed to live without her?” he sobs into my shoulder. “She was my everything. She was my heart.”
“I know, Merel. I know.” I hold him tightly and try to imagine what it would be like to be loved that way, to love someone that way. I’ll never have that. “But right now, you have to do something for me.”
He looks surprised as he pulls away. “For you? Now?”
“Well, it’s sort of for you, actually. I need you to come back into the hospital with me.”
“But, why? They’ve already lost my Ernestine. There’s no reason for me to be there anymore.”
“I just have the feeling that something bad is going to happen to you,” I say. I hold up my name tag like it’s proof. “See, I’m a nurse. If I’m wrong, feel free to go on your way. But humor me, and head back to the waiting room for a little while, okay?”
He sighs. “I’m too tired to argue.” He lets me lead him up the sidewalk to Atlanta Memorial, where we head through the doorway, into the emergency room.
“Here, you can sit down while I go talk to the nurse on duty,” I tell him. He shrugs and wilts into a chair. His eyes look glassy, and I realize he’s too lost in his grief to even register what’s going on. I walk up to the nursing station and gesture to the first nurse that catches my eye. “Hi. I’m a nurse across the street, and I have reason to believe this man is about to have a heart attack,” I say, gesturing to where Merel is sitting.
But as I turn to look at him, it’s already too late. He’s clutching his chest, his face red and his eyes wide. He stands and begins to flail wildly before collapsing. The woman beside him screams as the nurse and I rush over.
“I need a gurney over here!” she yells back in the direction of the nursing station. “Now!” Meanwhile, I bend to begin checking Merel’s vitals, but the nurse pushes me out of the way. “No,” she says sharply. “We’re fine. Help is here.”
Sure enough, two nurses appear with a gurney, and within seconds, they’ve lifted Merel up and are wheeling him away, toward an OR. I stare helplessly after him, wondering if I’ve made a difference by getting him inside or whether I’ve only succeeded in making his last seconds of consciousness scary and unsettling.
I give the nurse at the desk my name and number and ask her to call if there’s any word on Merel’s condition, then I head out the front door, feeling like I’ve failed.
I’ M LOST IN thought, my head down as I head to my car on the staff floor of the parking garage. I’ve just come out of the stairwell when I crash into a warm, solid chest.
“Oof! I’m so sorry!” I exclaim. Then I look up and realize that for the second time today, I’ve collided with Jamie.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” he says with a smile as we both take a step back.
“My fault,” I mumble.
“No. It was mine. I was thinking about my daughter.”
“Caroline,” I fill in without thinking.
He stares at me. “I’m sorry, I know you said we’d met before, but I can’t remember.”
I dodge the question by sticking out my hand. “I’m Jill,” I say.
“Jamie,” he says. “And listen, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just, I feel like I’d remember meeting you.”
“I’m very forgettable sometimes.”
“Oh, I seriously doubt that.” He holds my gaze for a long second, and
As I cross the street, I see Merel emerge from the front door of Atlanta Memorial and make a beeline for the bench too.
“Merel?” I say quickly as we reach the bench at the same time.
He looks up, and I realize he’s crying. “Oh, Jill. Hello, dear.”
“Merel, what’s wrong?”
His face crumples. “It’s my wife. Ernestine. I—I lost her. They told me the surgery was going well, but she died, Jill. Right there on the operating table.”
“Oh, Merel.” I pull him into a hug. “I’m so, so sorry.” I can feel his body shaking.
“How am I supposed to live without her?” he sobs into my shoulder. “She was my everything. She was my heart.”
“I know, Merel. I know.” I hold him tightly and try to imagine what it would be like to be loved that way, to love someone that way. I’ll never have that. “But right now, you have to do something for me.”
He looks surprised as he pulls away. “For you? Now?”
“Well, it’s sort of for you, actually. I need you to come back into the hospital with me.”
“But, why? They’ve already lost my Ernestine. There’s no reason for me to be there anymore.”
“I just have the feeling that something bad is going to happen to you,” I say. I hold up my name tag like it’s proof. “See, I’m a nurse. If I’m wrong, feel free to go on your way. But humor me, and head back to the waiting room for a little while, okay?”
He sighs. “I’m too tired to argue.” He lets me lead him up the sidewalk to Atlanta Memorial, where we head through the doorway, into the emergency room.
“Here, you can sit down while I go talk to the nurse on duty,” I tell him. He shrugs and wilts into a chair. His eyes look glassy, and I realize he’s too lost in his grief to even register what’s going on. I walk up to the nursing station and gesture to the first nurse that catches my eye. “Hi. I’m a nurse across the street, and I have reason to believe this man is about to have a heart attack,” I say, gesturing to where Merel is sitting.
But as I turn to look at him, it’s already too late. He’s clutching his chest, his face red and his eyes wide. He stands and begins to flail wildly before collapsing. The woman beside him screams as the nurse and I rush over.
“I need a gurney over here!” she yells back in the direction of the nursing station. “Now!” Meanwhile, I bend to begin checking Merel’s vitals, but the nurse pushes me out of the way. “No,” she says sharply. “We’re fine. Help is here.”
Sure enough, two nurses appear with a gurney, and within seconds, they’ve lifted Merel up and are wheeling him away, toward an OR. I stare helplessly after him, wondering if I’ve made a difference by getting him inside or whether I’ve only succeeded in making his last seconds of consciousness scary and unsettling.
I give the nurse at the desk my name and number and ask her to call if there’s any word on Merel’s condition, then I head out the front door, feeling like I’ve failed.
I’ M LOST IN thought, my head down as I head to my car on the staff floor of the parking garage. I’ve just come out of the stairwell when I crash into a warm, solid chest.
“Oof! I’m so sorry!” I exclaim. Then I look up and realize that for the second time today, I’ve collided with Jamie.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” he says with a smile as we both take a step back.
“My fault,” I mumble.
“No. It was mine. I was thinking about my daughter.”
“Caroline,” I fill in without thinking.
He stares at me. “I’m sorry, I know you said we’d met before, but I can’t remember.”
I dodge the question by sticking out my hand. “I’m Jill,” I say.
“Jamie,” he says. “And listen, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just, I feel like I’d remember meeting you.”
“I’m very forgettable sometimes.”
“Oh, I seriously doubt that.” He holds my gaze for a long second, and
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