It was just a typical Thursday night. Well, it was supposed to be anyway. This day turned out to be anything but.
It was a scene straight out of a movie. We knocked on the door, but there was no response. The pit in my stomach said that something was terribly wrong, and somehow I have seen this all before. Fumbling with the keys, he quickly opens the door. The sound in his voice confirmed my thoughts. “Call 9/11.”
I see her laying in the floor on her back with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. I immediately thought she was dead from the positioning of her body, but I had to get help on the way. My brain was going 90 to nothing.
Thankfully, I could hear her mumbling in the background as I connected with the dispatcher, but her words failed to make any sense. I continue to feed the dispatcher information as best as I could with anxiety rising in my chest.
Once help was on the way, I ran back inside to assess the situation. Her speech was slurred, and her mouth drooped on one side. She wanted to get up, but we refused to let her. Her body was unsteady, and she kept falling over to one side.
It looked like a stroke. I am very familiar with the signs.
The fire department arrived first. They checked her sugar levels and blood pressure. Meanwhile, they asked me questions, but my mouth wouldn’t form the answers. It was like I was frozen. In the kitchen rummaging through medications, he calls out the answers that my brain fails to provide.
I hold her upright and rub her back. This is the only thing I can think of to help, and the EMT’s walk into the room now. They confirmed the obvious. It presented as a textbook stroke. We had to get to the hospital ASAP.
Part 2 to follow soon
I am so sorry for the gap in posts. Dealing with this nightmare was difficult, and this is my first attempt at articulating my thoughts.