Summer vacations were supposed to be a time to relax, so I wondered why so far, my vacation was more like such a three-ring circus. Well, at least it was quiet in the house now. Maggie and Josh were at work, and since it was one of Mary Elizabeth's days with Jeanne, Mom had taken Becky shopping. I don't think Maggie and I ever had to buy a single stitch of extra clothes for our little girl. Mom just loved to shop for Becky, and she always bought so much stuff for her, there was nothing else Becky could possibly need. Today they were off on a "Shopping for the Trip to Israel" mission, and I could imagine the tons of stuff they'd bring home. I'll need to remind Maggie not to bring it all, or the plane won't be able to get off the ground--not to mention the excess baggage charges we'd have to pay.

I made myself a cup of coffee and headed for the study to work on the manuscript. I'd only made corrections to the first three chapters so far, and I really wanted to finish the rest and get it off to the publisher before we left for our trip.

Firing up the laptop, I shuffled to the last page I'd worked on, found my place and prepared to go at it. I got as far as the second page of the fourth chapter when I heard footsteps pounding down the stairs, following by Mary Elizabeth calling frantically, "I think Jeanne has had another stroke!"

I jumped up, almost spilling my coffee, and raced up the stairs ahead of her. Sure enough, Jeanne was lying in an awkward position in her hospital bed. One side of her face was distorted, and she was making strange little motions with her good left hand.

Quietly and calmly, I leaned over. "Grandma, can you speak?"

Jeanne seemed to be straining, unable to say anything or even shake her head. Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes.

I asked Mary Elizabeth to bring me the cordless phone Mom often used. As soon as she returned with it, I called the Merriwether Police direct, instead of dialing 911.

Sergeant Turner answered immediately.

"Tim, it's Joe Madison. Listen, Maggie's grandmother seems to have had another stroke. Can you put out a call for a senior member to bring the rig to our house? Oh, and tell whoever calls in to be sure to come upstairs, up the ramp."

"Sure, Joe, I'll get right on it," Tim replied.

Sure enough, seconds later my pager started beeping. I stroked Jeanne's hair, reassuring her help was on the way, and we'd get her right to the hospital where she'd be fixed up in no time. I hoped that was true, but at the same time I was well aware that second strokes are often fatal.

I was delighted to hear Carole Flanagan's voice come over the ambulance radio. The two of them really hit it off and often chatted at various functions, such as yesterday's softball game.

Meanwhile, I called Maggie and Josh at work to let them know what was going on and told them I'd leave a note for Mom, as I didn't know where she and Becky went shopping. No sooner had I finished those two calls when Carole arrived with the rig. Mary Elizabeth opened the door and helped Carole bring the stretcher up the ramp.

In short order, Carole and I had Jeanne situated on the stretcher as comfortably as possible, then got her loaded into the ambulance. I held Jeanne's hand, trying my best to comfort her during the short ride to the hospital.

Once in the ER, we made sure Jeanne was safely ensconced in a bed in the ER, with a nurse at her side taking vital signs.

I was at the triage nurse's desk when Maggie burst into the room crying, "How is she?"

"Honey, it's hard to say until the doctor looks at her, but it looks like another stroke. She can't speak right now, but remember she lost her speech the last time then got it back, so let's think positive, okay?"

"Joe," Maggie said, "please tell me the whole truth. I can tell just by looking at you that you're very worried."

"Okay," I sighed. Turning to the triage nurse, I asked, "Do you have enough information for now?"

"Yes, I think so," was the reply. "I'll let you know if there's anything else I need."

I took Maggie to a quiet corner of the waiting room and sat down with her.

"Look, Maggie," I began, "I know how much you love your grandmother. We all love her, but . . ."

"Joe! What are you trying to say?"

"Well, sweetheart, to tell you the truth, I really can't say at this time, but the reason I look worried, I guess, is because so often a second stroke is fatal."

Maggie gasped.

"But we can't think that way, honey, especially when we're with her. It's important there is only positive talk around her. You have no idea what a difference that can make to someone's recovery. So please try to collect yourself before we go in to see her. Will you do that for me?"

Maggie nodded. "You're right, Joe. I'll do my best."

Just then the triage nurse beckoned, "Mr. Madison . . . phone call for you."

It was Mom. "Joe, how is Mother?"

I told her briefly what we knew so far without going into too much detail.

"I'm coming right up there. I'll bring Becky with me," Mom said.

"Maggie and I are in the ER waiting room," I told her. "If they let us go in, one of us will wait out here for you."

"Thanks, Joe," she replied. "I'm on my way!"

As I hung up the phone, an elderly woman came rushing in, yelling, "Help! Please! My husband's in the car. He grabbed his chest, said he couldn't breathe, then he just passed out."

The triage nurse ran into the ER, returning quickly followed by an orderly and an ER nurse with a gurney. I offered to help.

As we were bringing the stricken man in, an ambulance pulled in. They followed the gurney with their stretcher that held a young man who was quite banged up. Blood was dripping from the stretcher despite the massive number of bandages and splints that had been applied.

The triage nurse told my group to take their patient to Treatment Room 3.

Then one of the ambulance attendants said, "Motorcycle accident. Where do you want him?"

"Put him in Treatment Room 1," she replied.

When I returned to join Maggie, I said quietly, "There's too much going on here today. This is no place for Becky. When your mom gets here, I think I'd better take her home. What do you think?"

Maggie agreed that would be best. Shortly after that, Mom arrived with Becky in tow. I explained our decision to her, and told the women I'd try to get a sitter, then get back as soon as possible.

Maggie put her hand on my arm. "Whatever you think best, dear. Mom and I will be fine, so please don't worry. We can keep you posted by phone."

"All right, honey," I said, heading for the door with Becky. Suddenly I stopped and went back over to the waiting room.

"Uh, Maggie, could I borrow your car? I just remembered--I came here with Carole in the ambulance."

Laughing, Maggie said, "Of course, dear," as she dug the keys out of her purse. "It would be a pretty long walk home for you and Becky, even if it is downhill all the way. The car's just around the corner," she pointed.

Scooping Becky up in my arms, I headed out the ER door. Driving home I couldn't help but wonder if the whole summer was going to be this hectic and if there'd ever be any solitude so I could finish my manuscript. At any rate, I prayed for a miracle that Jeanne would come out of this okay. But if she didn't, I knew God had a special place for her in heaven.








Continue to Chapter 16


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