Stress Makes You Crazy

I leaned over the bed reading the book aloud to my husband. When I stopped for a moment I had to try to not notice the man with the bloody shirt walk by or the people being wheeled into the emergency room corridor on stretchers. Don't look! I told myself. Someone in the next room vomited. Don't listen, I told myself. Another person moaned in agony. How do the doctors and nurses and janitors and secretaries handle this war zone?

Stress does crazy things to your brain. I managed to get lost coming back from the bathroom even though it was a straight line. I managed to lose our car in the parking garage even though I parked next to the doors to the elevator. Maybe it was stolen, I thought. It was midnight and a thousand degrees. Parking garages terrify me. I asked a man coming out of the elevator if there was a lower level and he said no. Then three bubbly nurses came out of the elevator in blue scrubs. Can we help you? Yes, I think I've lost my car, a little maroon Honda. I parked right here. A man just said there was no lower level.

We never go this way, one of the nurses said. Which way are you headed? I asked. May I go with you? We all took the stairs going down together. I hate parking garages I said. Us too, they said. We all laughed. And there was my car. There is a basement level. Thank you so much. 

I got in and drove and drove. It's Rhode Island, how far could I be? I asked myself. Eventually I recognized Roger Williams Park and saw the sign for Route Ten and knew my way from there. On 146 the gas light came on but I gambled that I could make it home. I felt brave and strong like my endorphin-driven alpha energy was protecting me after a huge and terrifying 14 hours. 

Of course women don't like parking garages or empty gas tanks. We know we are vulnerable but at that moment I felt protected. I came home and cuddled our dog Romeo. He slept leaning on me. He knew things were different today.

The next morning I walked Romeo at 6AM. It was foggy out. I bought gas. "Fill it up!" I said smiling to Athan, the boy at Murphy's. There was no traffic on the highway. I arrived back at the hospital early and my husband looked pretty good. I read Daniel's book aloud some more. At one point a machine beeped and read out a zero. I had not seen a zero on the blue screen before. I looked at my husband and his mouth was moving and his eyes were half-closed and rolled up. I ran out to the nurse's station and said "My husband!" Bryan the kind male nurse came rushing in. 

"He's asleep!" he said.

"I'm so embarrassed! I heard the beeps and saw the zero on the screen and his face never looks like that. I thought it was something bad. I guess I'm usually asleep when he's asleep."

"No problem," Bryan said. My heart was racing and my kneecaps were jumping. I was full of adrenaline.