Monday

My hubs was wheeled into the ER Monday morning when the weekend irregular heartbeats he’d experienced worsened to dizziness, chest and left-side body pains minutes upon arriving at work. He’d at least the good sense to call the company nurse where then 5 company paramedics rushed to his aide, administered nitroglycerin and made him dry crunch aspirin. Vials of blood work were drawn from him and by then, Corning Hospital’s paramedics were already at the scene to speed him off to the ER.

I was nowhere at his side.

In fact, when I arrived work at 11.30am -- after having taken the 2 little-lies and myself to a dentist appointment that morning-- my work colleagues’ ashen faces were the only indication that something was not right.

While my hubs was hooked up to wires and cords --that prodded his chest and arms-- with ends that snaked to machines, he was still in denial that he needed medical attention. I stayed no longer than ½ hour by his side before he shooed me off explaining that he was getting stressed knowing that my being with him was hampering me from meeting my work deadline.

He was asked to stay Monday night for further observation. The medical results collected over 1.5 days showed no indications of heart damage or signs of something remediable (or not). I don’t know what could be worse than leaving a hospital knowing that the medical professionals had no clue what went wrong.

Actually it could be worse.

Later that Tuesday evening, I drove over to the kids’ school to pick them up and ran into Sean’s Grade 1 teacher. She related sad news that one of the parent of her students passed away. He was 36 and his 2 children were no older than Aidan and Monique. He’d slumped to the ground whilst playing ice hockey and was pronounced dead by the time paramedics arrived at the scene.

We knew him only by affiliation. He worked at the same company, friends and colleagues at work knew him, he lived along the busy road that we drove past everyday commuting to places, he had a letterbox with his last name visible to the daily passing traffic, and his kids schooled with ours. My heart pained when I thought about his widow and young children.

Death has never been taboo. I recognize that we will all pass one day. I’d even gone ahead to instruct my hubs that should I be handicapped from an illness or accident, it would be the right thing for him to see that they pulled the plug. I don’t want my children burdened; I don’t want my spouse guilt-ridden into caring for my vegetative state. I don’t plan on having anyone see me at my most pathetic. Dying would be my freedom.

But Monday’s incident and the sudden death of Mr. 36-yr old made me fear death. I thought about the “what ifs” and how my children would cease having a father; my thoughts returned to the 2 young children of Mr. 36-yr old and realized that death was too cruelly random.

My hubs is now recognizing that he needs to take a breather. His vegan lifestyle might have helped with his cholesterol levels and blood profile but a continued stressful work lifestyle could still trigger a heart attack. Age isn’t on his side either.

And, we only have one heart and this life.

Balloon Girl

Balloon girl is uncomplicated.

To her, the promise of spring + frog rain boots + a balloon = Joy.

She showed me the spring in her bounce.

And tried to embrace the teasing beams.

But armed with a coat, she can better march into Spring.

"Are you still with me?"

"Come! Take my hand."

"We'll have so much fun..."

"... zooming about carefree."

"Right past Winter, just like this."