Tyler Gene Hughes
Snapshot 2/October 5, 2010
“Yyyyes, MOM!” I moan through the pain.
“Do we need to go to the ER?”
“Okay. John we are going for the third and final time.”
As I stumble out of bed through the pain of the 1,000 knifes in my rib cage. Mom grabs the weak shell of her son as I almost face plant down the 14 navy blue carpeted stairs. Once my feet reach the cool, ash color wood floor I try to stand on my own and fall into the sky blue wall and fall to my knee. As I make the five more difficult steps to grayish, blue ambulance in our two car garage.
“Tyler. Its okay we will be there in 20 minutes.”
“MUST GO FASTER!” Hails from the backseat.
“I am trying, just hold on.”
As the screech of the tires echo through the now vacant parking lot of Children’s Hospital. I inch my way out in the cool, eerie darkness of the midnight air. With the eyes on the prize, I take the 30 strides and the six floors to the sweet pain relief. Once inside the mouth of the white, immoveable monster either the pain or demoralization hits me first as I see the packed waiting room. Now the waiting game starts and the constant fights with the doctors.
“Mommy,” I whisper, “make them hurry.”
“Honey I can’t control people.”
”Okay sweetie,” As mother gets up with a subtle, unchanging determination to go talk with the nurse.
Then almost like magic I am taken back to talk to the ER doctor and was admitted to the hospital. Two weeks, two room changes, two MRIs, 86 X-rays, three ultra sounds, one nuclear test and one exploratory surgery later I was released and went home to enjoy the rest of my 5th grade year.