At some points in your life, when you feel like your completely losing it, like nothing else could possibly go wrong...like life just keeps attacking you; these are the times when you realize that family can be the most important thing in your life.
These are the times, that when you think you have no one you realize you have more than you could ask for.
Last night my bestfriend in the whole world, my fiance, my soulmate, my fucking everything could have died. He had a burst appendix for 2 days and had no idea, and we just found out yesterday when he ran out of pain meds for his back, and suddenly started feeling the pain in his stomach worse than he had the whole week of stomach pain. He came into my work, doubled over in pain, bringing me my water and a Lara bar, and was going to head off to work.
He told me what he suspected was the case, and I started to cry, because he told me they were gonna cut him open. I begged him to call my mom, and head straight to the hospital.
He never called my mom, and never went to the hospital.
I called my mom, and asked her what appendicitis was, and if it was burst, what would happen? She told me to get off the phone and make him go to the hospital; that he could die. I started to cry again, I thought this isn't real, it can't be happening. I called Sam, and told him, argued, fought with him to go to the hospital. He finally conceded.
For hours after that phone call I held back tears, wondering what was happening, was he okay? Was it a burst appendix? Would they cut him open? Would he die? My work associate wouldn't let me leave with him, even though he could hardly walk, and he had to drive himself to the hospital.
When we had closed the doors of the store, I called him; and he was doped up, heading into surgery. I couldn't be there to hold his hand, to tell him it was going to be okay...
When we were done closing my work associate drove me to the hospital, and I ran in, asking where he was. I was directed to surgery waiting, which was empty. I talked to a doctor, who called another doctor, and he steered me towards another room. Another doctor stopped us and told us to follow her, that my fiance was having a break before he went back into surgery, to hurry.
I practically ran, and when I got there, we were in a lobby outside of surgery, and I don't remember anything besides seeing his face under the scrubs, and I dropped all my stuff, and ran to him. I burst into tears and laid my head on his chest. He told me it would be alright, to stop crying, but I told him I couldn't when I had to see him like this. He told me I'm his soulmate, and everything would be okay. I sobbed, and vaguely heard the doctors behind me chatting...I don't remember any of their faces, just that they were there. Then they told me my time was up, and wheeled him into surgery. I couldn't watch them take him away, I kissed him bye and turned away.
A doctor directed me to surgery waiting, and I quietly cried as we walked there. I sat in the empty waiting room, filled with ugly floral patterned chairs and nightmarish carpet..I felt like I was in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, when Johnny Dep was hallucinating the carpet was growing vines and crawling.
I cried and cried and tried to rationalize with myself, I wrote a dreadfully bad poem and read a girly magazine.
I had been so caught up I'd forgotten to get Sam's mom's phone number, and luckily one of the doctors came in and gave me her phone number.
Her and I talked for an hour or more, about Sam, and how much he's grown and changed, and how proud of him we were. It was the first time her and I really talked, and it was only awkward for a few mins, when someone you love is in peril, it really brings people together.
I waited for hours for him, I couldn't turn on the TV, I couldn't think really. I just sat there, pondering whether I should lay on the three seats next to me and try to nap. I just knew that was never gonna happen. Finally the doctors updated me, while I was talking to Theresa(Sam's mom)they told me he was done, and that they would bring him up to his room in about an hour. Then another doctor came in, and directed me to his room, so I could wait for him.
Several hours later, after they moved me from his room to the nearby waiting room, they informed me I could see him. What I was expecting was a heartfelt relief, but what I got was Sam all the way. He was yelling, crying, screaming at the nurses. Threatening to sue, to transfer hospitals, to sign himself out, begging for pain meds. Needless to say, it was quit an embarassing nightmare. No matter what I did, I couldn't calm him.
As the night continued, he calmed down, and got his pain medicine. He fell asleep, dead asleep. After around 2:30, I said my goodbyes, and headed home in a taxi.
The Taxi driver was an asshole, he was mad at me because I didn't tip him.
The next day, I received a barrage of phone calls, that didn't end, all day. My family, and friends checking up on me, giving me support.
I lost my job as well, because the next day I was scheduled to work, and never showed, although I had completely forgotten because of all the insanity. When I called them they told me I didn't call or show, and someone had to cover my shift, and so I "Quit on them". Which is bullshit. And then they asked me how my b/f was.
It was a family emergency, and they fired me. I got off the phone and cried, and cried, and called Sam, and cried more. I talked to my mom, and Tasia, and they helped to calm me a bit.
My fears; how can I pay for anything when Sam's going to be out of work for 6 weeks?
How could this happen…
Later, around 8:00 Tasia called and asked if I could house Kyle for the night, until he got to the bus stop back to Wyoming. Apparently this girl asked him to come visit her, and then her mom told her no at the last minute. He was about to transfer to the Chicago bus, but checked his phone right before, and saw her message; "Go back home."
He was stranded in Denver, in a snowstorm, so of course I said he could stay.
I was rather relieved I had someone else here, so I wouldn't wallow and focus on my problems.
Denver is so different from Seattle; as Kyle was on his way here, walking to the bus stop, a man started following him. He asked him; "Hey, how are you?" Kyle said; "I'm cold and angry."
The guy didn't get the picture, and kept following Kyle. Now just for all those who don't know, Kyle is flaming gay. So, the guy suddenly comes up next to him, and sticks his hand in Kyle's front pocket, and tries to grab his manhood! Kyle turns around, socks him in the face, and lays him flat. The guy is laying face down in the snow. Kyle said he could tell the guy was on drugs. Kyle continued walking.
This sort of thing would NEVER happen in Seattle. Some girls from work were telling me the guys at the clubs are so disrespectful they will grab girls tits, and asses w/out their consent, or knowledge. It kinda horrifies me.
Every city is different, but I have come to find that out of all the cities I've lived in, Seattle is the most polite.
Although it takes people a bit to open up, and making friends is harder than breaking into Fort Knox, when you ask someone on the street for directions; not only will they give you the history of the place, but where its at, and how the atmosphere is. In some ways I really do miss my city. I think a piece of my heart will always be saved for Seattle.
Currently Sam is going through a circus at the hospital, and his doctor has me so unbelievably pissed that I want to sue his ass. They will give him a higher pain med dose, and then suddenly take him off everything, when he begs them to put him back on, and he's crying in pain, they will finally put him back on. This has happened about 4-5 times. They won't even let him get one night's sleep, they keep waking him up every few hours.
His doctor keeps changing his mind about the prescription he's giving him to take home, and how many pills he's getting. His doctor has changed his mind NUMEROUS times about whether he gets to leave today, yesterday, tomorrow, in a week etc. Its been a roller-coaster ride. They've even changed his RECOVERY time. How can you change recovery time? Its been 2 weeks, then 4, then six. And six weeks is what they told me right after he got out of surgery. These people are sick. I've gotten plenty of stories from my cousin Tasia as well, that Swedish medical hospital is evil.
Our van broke down, several days ago, so we've been using my aunts truck. Taz gets back from Canada today, and my parents are picking her up. They will be coming down to visit us, and work on the van since Sam is incapacitated.
We were really hoping that we'd be able to move out, in a month. But it doesn't look like that's gonna happen.
I was on my cell-phone so much yesterday that I got a terrible headache, and I was very sick by the time I made it to bed. All I know is that I don't know what I would do w/out my family and friends. They mean the world to me, and w/out their support I think I would have been crying through this whole ordeal.
Tasia, Mimi, and even Kyle, I just want to thank you guys, because w/out the people in my life I don't how I would have made it through everything.
Kyle cheered me up, and Tasia and Mimi you two are just really amazing, thanks for all your support.
I know none of my family besides my mom reads my blog; but I'd also like to thank my dad, my mom, Sam's mom, my Grandma Charlotte, my Grandma Schilling, and Taz; for being there for me and Sam, and for holding Sam in your Prayers, thoughts, and hearts. And mom, you were there for me every step of the way.
Well; this concludes that part of my story, I'll be busy all day today taking care of Sam when they release him, and visiting w/ my parents, Nikki, and Taz.
Peace,
Sky
