Am I in an episode of ER?

The roads in Highlands ranch are bumpy. The soil here rises and falls with the seasons, and it is very difficult for the engineers that build these roads to keep them smooth and even. Everyone that lives here is familiar with the "ka thunk ka thunk" of driving in this area. It is not until you are driving someone that is in massive amount of pain and every bump hurts a little more that you realize what a problem this can be.

It's April of 2006, a few days before H's 38th Bday. The Dr. said "Go to the ER" so we are on our way to Skyridge Medical Center. The on-call OB from Heidi's clinic will meet us there, it's not her regular Doctor. We arrive at the Hospital at about 5am. The place is pretty desolate at this time on a Sunday am. We check in and get a room, the nurses hook her up to a BP monitor and some other things. When the Doc arrives, they roll in an ultrasound machine and go to work. Hmmm...nothing seems to be wrong, she almost discharges us based on a consult with the normal OB and the mysterious results of the ultrasound, but just for a measure of caution, they ask us to stay a couple of hours for monitoring. The Doc goes off to Starbucks to get some fuel for the day.

I on the other hand I am very concerned. I know H, and she can handle a lot of pain. She's had 3 kids and two of them with no pain meds. She seems to only have moderate pain now lying down in the room, but earlier, it looked like she was in more pain than any time EVER. So, everybody leaves the room and it's her and I in there. She is doing ok for a while, but then sirens start going off and bells start ringing, again, she feels pain an is beginning to get nauscious.

The ER doc comes in and it looks like her BP is crashing...80/60....70/50....60/40. Everyone is freaking out including the nurses and they say let's get her into "trauma 3." I'm really scared at this point and am holding her hand. She looks pale and gaunt, and scared too.

We get into the trauma room which is lit up like a christmas tree, super bright, all tile floor, no nice carpet and soft lighting in here. This place is for the serious business of an ER. They come in with forms to sign for H, who is barely conscious at this point, can't even talk, much less sign anything. These forms were approving the blood transfusions that she needed to save her life, as well as some type of consent/release form in case...who knows. She is throwing up, reeling in pain and looking completely frightened out of her mind. I probably look similar.

They inform me that they need to get her to into emergency surgery and within what seems like seconds, she is gone from there, gone from me and i'm wondering if i'll ever see her again.

Out for now. B.