out on the back patio of my parents’ home, the air brisk, the snow falling gently. I’d slipped my phone back into my pocket, a smile on my face for the first time in days.
I was going to see her. We were going to make things right.
We were going to be together.
Only fitting it would happen on the holidays.
I made a vow that I would never, never violate her trust again. We’d be open and honest with each other one hundred percent of the time. No lies. Not ever.
But it was the last thought I had before the patio door flew open. My mother had a look of terror on her face, like nothing I’d ever seen before. Something was terribly wrong.
My parents had been in the living room sipping some whiskey and coffee – their usual post dinner drink – when I’d stepped out to take the call. And when I’d been on the phone, happy and making plans with Annie, something happened to Dad.
“He’s on the floor,” Mom cried, tears in her eyes, panic on her face. “I don’t know what to do.”
My doctor’s focus and calm took over. “Where is he?”
“He’s…he’s in the living room.”
I took Mom’s hand and ran into the dining room of the small, cozy ranch home where my parents lived, the house where I’d grown up. From there, we hurried into the living room. My father, all six-and-a-half-feet, two-hundred-and-fifty-pounds of him, was on the floor, his hand clutching his chest, his face twisted into an expression of pain, his skin flushed a deep red.
“Dad!” I dropped to my knees. “Tell me what’s wrong!”
“Chest…” he grunted. He was barely able to speak.
I didn’t need to call upon my years of medical training to know it was a heart attack.
“Duncan,” Mom said, her voice calm, panic just beneath the surface. “What do we do? Please!”
“Run to the bathroom and grab some Aspirin. I’ll call 911.” My voice was even and calm.
Mom nodded and hurried out of the room as I called emergency services. When I was done on the phone, I looked him up and down, trying to figure out what was happening. It didn’t take my medical expertise to understand his condition. He was having a heart attack, and a severe one at that.
It all passed by so fast. The ambulance came, the red and blue lights flashing in the night air catching the drifting snow. The EMTs piled out and ran into the house, tending to Dad and bringing him out moments later on a stretcher.
I demanded, demanded, to be let in the ambulance with him. I was so insistent that Mom needed to talk me down, tell me to let the staff do their work. I relented, realizing that as much as I wanted to be with Dad every step of the way, Mom would need me even more.
We drove together to the hospital, following the ambulance closely, whipping through traffic, the snow’s intensity building with each passing minute. After arriving at the ER, Mom and I watched as Dad was brought into the brightly lit space, doctors and nurses a flurry around him as they performed the necessary work.
An hour passed, an hour I spent sitting with Mom, my arm around her slender shoulders. I wanted some word, any word on what was happening. And I finally got it. A serious-faced doctor arrived and approached us.
“Tell me,” I said. “I’m a doctor – you don’t need to dumb it down.” Mom stepped to my side, grabbing my arm.
“Mr. Pitt had a serious coronary event. He’s stable now, but it was touch-and-go for a moment.”
“He’s alright?” Mom asked.
“Far from fine,” said the doctor. “But we’ve stabilized him enough to get him through the night. If he stays like this overnight, we can postpone emergency surgery. But it’s looking like he’s going to need some measure of bypass.”
“What are his chances?” I asked.
“Much better,” he said. “The Aspirin might well have saved his life.”
A wave of relief washed over me. I remained calm and even, knowing Mom needed it. After a few more questions to the doctor, I sat back down with Mom.
“It’ll be okay,” I said. “Heart attacks are one of the most common medical emergencies, which means hospitals are well-equipped for them.”
“I just…I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”
“You won’t need to worry about that for a long time,” I said. “Because he’s in good hands.”
We sat like that for a long while, the night passing. Eventually,