Thursday, September 29, 2011

The Nightmare Begins

Tuesday, May 17, 2011 4:03 PM
On Tuesday, May 17, 2011, at 4:03 PM, I was informed my whole world was about to change forever even though it had actually changed barely thirty minutes before.  I had just left the Police Academy to qualify for my firearm.  My son, Timmy, usually stayed after school at Archbishop Ryan hanging out with a small group of students and their English teacher, Mr. Emore.  I figured I was close by I would pick him up and take him to Barnes & Noble and maybe sneak a burger and shake.  My cell phone rang and the woman's voice told me to come to Aria-Torresdale Hospital because Timmy was in an auto accident.  I was driving right past the hospital on Knights Road having just turned off Torresdale Avenue and coming up on Red Lion Road. I walked into the hospital ER.  I seen two prison guards with a shackled prisoner and made sure my gold detective badge was still clipped to my rig because my Glock stuck out like a sore thumb on my hip.

 I walked up to the first nurse I saw.  I told her who I was and she told me to take a seat so she could fetch the charge nurse and doctor.  I had thoughts in my head of my Timmy sitting up in a gurney with a broken arm or leg; a half embarrassed smile on his face.  I could him apologize for ruining a vacation and I had the words to say to him forming in my mind - how I would tease him and I hoped he was going to enjoy sitting on the beach and not enjoy the ocean.  I sat there and I looked around the ER.  I saw two medics walking out to their Rescue unit.  I saw the expressions on their faces.  I knew that expression all too well.  It was the same expression I had used on numerous occasions involving serious injury or Death.

"I want to see my son.  Where is my Timmy?"  I was using my cop voice.  What the frig for?  Did I think I was a Jedi using the Force for a mind trick?

I was told to be patient and that the charge nurse would be with me shortly.  I felt my shoulders tighten.  I knew that if I stood up I would be in a defensive posture - ready to use my fists, feet, any thing next to me that I would use to protect my person.  But why?  Why?  I was in fear.  I was afraid.  I thought only of wanting to get to my son.  I wanted to protect my son.

An auburn hair woman, wearing glasses and in floral print scrubs came out and told me to come with her.  She led me to a room -- the family room where the severity of a patient is discussed with his or her loved ones.  A uniformed police officer stood there.  The same expression on his face as the medics.  A security guard stood next to him in a white shirt; he was a retired cop from all I could tell.  We, as cops, know sometimes who wore a badge.  There was a second nurse, tall, skinny, blonde, and attractive.  She told to have a seat.  I sat and waited with her standing next to me.
"Where is my son?"
"The doctors are with him.  I'm sorry I don't know anymore than that."  The blonde said.
"I want to see my son.  Now!"
"Mr. Connors.  Please.  You will see your son in a few minutes."