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."