THE AUTHOR WHO BROUGHT YOU "MY CLOUDS HAVE WINGS", AND "VISIONS OF ELASTIC RAINBOWS" UNDER THE NAME R.C.HARRIS NOW PRESENTS A MASTERPIECE OF STORY TELLING FOR YOUR READING PLEASURE.
INCOMING!!!
Before anyone could answer my question, the telephone rang; it was a doctor from the emergency room. Dreena was involved in a terrible car accident. She and the baby were in grave danger. Annette went with me to the hospital; the paramedics had taken them to DC General Hospital, just a short ride from my house.
When we arrived at the hospital, I was consumed with mixed emotions. The emergency room staff had finished stabilizing Dreena and her baby. She had suffered multiple skull fractures, a pelvic fracture, and the baby she was carrying had head injury as well and the doctor thought the impact of the air bag might have damaged its skull. The CAT scan was conclusive. The doctor stated that they may not survive the needed surgery. He had only one question for me: in event that something went wrong, which one should they try to save?
That was more than what I wanted to think about. Dreena didn’t have any family. Her mother had passed away from breast cancer years before we met; she never knew her father. Dreena and her baby were laying on an emergency room table, waiting for the special team of surgeons to arrive. I felt a tear trying to swell in my left eye but held it back. Damn, what should I do? Annette stayed by my side, hugging me; tears started streaming down her face. I called Vanessa, who remained back at the house with the twins. Vanessa suggested that she bring the twins to the hospital. I told her no.
Damn, I got to think this thing through; I relied on my memory and all the information over the years, hoping that my recollection was accurate to say the least. I wonder if this is the kind of thing God goes through when He hears conflicting prayers. His will in the end will prevail; I just hope that, as a mortal, I can embrace it. I understand now why I couldn’t be God, and in a way I was glad that I am not. But in some small way, I was going through a training course to play God.
In this small corner of the world, where no one particularly cares about anyone else, two lives were in imminent danger of losing life. Here, in the bowels of my thoughts, I must rationalize a decision that will affect several people for a lifetime to come. And this wasn’t one of those deals where you can say, “I’ll get back with you on that, let’s do lunch.” I think that I had eight minutes before the surgical team’s arrival. Now, I must access everything I know to make the best decision for all concerned. My journal ends here, because I don’t remember events as I would like, just images, just fragments of the past.
Copyright ©2009-2011 Michael Michelle Publishing
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