11
Miranda couldn’t remember ever feeling this scared or concerned for a person—ever.
As she rode next to Joy in the ambulance, hearing the whining cries of the siren, she stared helplessly down at Joy’s pale, lifeless face.
As the paramedics tended to her, exchanging unintelligible words between them, Miranda felt hopeless.
She felt a dark cloud of uncertainty. This was it .
. . the end. She was losing her good friend.
Perhaps even her best friend. And there was nothing she could do about it.
In the same way she’d lost her marriage, her job, her home .
. . she was about to lose Joy as well. It figured.
With tears streaming down both cheeks, Miranda quietly mumbled a disjointed prayer.
Feeling like a six-year-old, she begged God over and over to spare Joy.
But even as she uttered the words, she knew it was a selfish prayer.
Joy was nearly eighty-six, and she was being relocated to an assisted living facility where she knew no one.
Joy’s life, for the most part, was over.
Who could deny that? Joy believed in heaven .
. . and an afterlife. Perhaps she would be happier to move on now.
Who was Miranda to try to hold on to her, to try to keep her back? And yet she couldn’t help herself.
“We’re taking her into the ER. But she’ll probably go directly to the cardiac unit of ICU,” the guy told Miranda as they started to wheel the gurney out the door. Miranda hadn’t even noticed they’d arrived at the hospital.
“She’ll be in good hands,” the woman said as she helped to get the gurney down.
Miranda wiped her damp cheeks and, gathering her purse and Joy’s, she exited the ambulance, watching as the paramedics disappeared with Joy through a set of double doors with a sign that said EMERGENCY PERSONNEL ONLY.
Using another entrance, Miranda found her way to the reception area, impatiently waiting for the intake person to finish with the elderly couple ahead of her. Why were they so slow?
Finally, the receptionist motioned Miranda forward.
After Miranda explained the situation, the woman asked for Joy’s ID and insurance cards.
As Miranda sat down, she began digging in Joy’s purse and, locating the items, she handed them over.
She explained that she wasn’t a relative, attempting to answer the woman’s questions as best she could while waiting impatiently as the woman punched the information into her computer. Why was she so slow?
“Can I see her?” Miranda asked eagerly.
“Not yet.” The woman typed something else on her computer. “They’ll be getting her stabilized and probably run some tests. Someone will come out to talk to you . . . after a while.”
“How long will that take?”
“Hard to say. But you should plan on at least an hour or more here. Then she’ll probably be moved to ICU.” The woman frowned. “Is there any next of kin you need to notify? Someone you need to call?”
Miranda sighed. “Her sons.”
The woman nodded. Then, looking over Miranda’s shoulder, she waved to the young mother and son waiting for their turn. “Next.”
Miranda didn’t know what to do as she went over to the waiting area.
She should probably call Joy’s sons. But what would she say?
“Your mother and I just happened to be driving a motor home a couple thousand miles in the middle of winter and she had a heart attack”?
She couldn’t even imagine how they would react.
She’d met Joy’s sons only a couple of times, and while they were nice enough, she wasn’t sure how they’d respond in a situation like this.
From hearing Joy talk about them, she knew both Rob and Rick were somewhat intense guys.
Joy described them as type A personalities who defined themselves according to their bank accounts.
Although they were both approaching their sixties, neither of the men had any intention of retiring.
The idea of calling them with this news was more than a little intimidating. Still, they probably deserved to know.
Miranda thought about what she’d want someone else to do if they were in her shoes. If her mom was hospitalized with something as serious as chest pain, she would want to be notified. At once.
Miranda started digging through Joy’s bag now.
She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for since she knew Joy didn’t own a cell phone.
But when she discovered a little old-fashioned address book, she felt hopeful.
And sure enough, in the J section Miranda discovered both Rick and Rob Jorgenson’s phone numbers and addresses.
Since Rick was the oldest, Miranda decided to call what appeared to be his cell phone number.
When he answered she quickly identified herself, explaining that she was with his mother in Albuquerque, but then she didn’t know what to say.
Joy hadn’t wanted her sons to know about the trip, and now she had to tell them like this.
“We are, uh, we’re at the hospital and—”
“In a hospital in Albuquerque?” he repeated. “What? Who is this?”
She explained again. “They took her back to the ER, but she’ll probably be moved into ICU soon.”
“What? My mother is in an emergency room in Albuquerque? Is this some kind of scam? You trying to get money?”
Again, she explained, but this time she told him about the motor home, how they’d been traveling on Route 66, and his mother’s Christmas Joy contest. This time Rick said nothing. Clearly, the poor man was speechless.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Miranda said contritely. “And I’m not even sure that Joy would approve of me calling you just yet. But I thought you’d want to know. I know I would if it was my mother.”
“Of course I want to know. What I really want to know is how on earth did this happen? My mom is supposed to be in Chicago. She is supposed to board a flight to Phoenix tomorrow. She is supposed to be settling into her assisted living apartment, which Rob and I have gotten all set up for her. We even put up a Christmas tree! What the heck is she doing out on the road? Route 66? A motor-home trip in wintertime? Has she lost her ever-loving mind?”
“Her mind is very clear. It’s her heart that worries me.”
She heard him exhaling loudly. “Well, how is she? What’s wrong exactly? What’s being done?”
“I don’t really know. We only just got here. I haven’t seen her since I left her in the ER. But she should be getting moved to ICU before you get here.”
“Right. Well, I could try to get a flight there, but it’s probably faster to just drive.
Especially this time of year. I’m sure the flights are all overbooked as usual.
” He paused like he was considering options, and Miranda couldn’t think of anything helpful to say.
“Looks like it might take about seven hours to get there by car—if I drive fast. And if I left right away, I could be there by ten—eleven at the latest.”
“Yeah . . . that would probably be good.”
The line got quiet again.
“Do you think she’s going to make it?” he asked in a somber tone.
“I honestly don’t know. She seemed healthy when we started out, but then she seemed to get tired so easily—”
“I still can’t believe Mom would do something like this. You’re sure she’s not dealing with some kind of dementia or something?”
“No. Her brain is as sharp as ever. She just wanted to help people,” Miranda said defensively. “To make Christmas really special for some deserving folks. And she was having a great time doing it. You should’ve seen how happy she’s been.”
“But her heart! Didn’t she tell you that the reason we wanted her relocated to Phoenix was because of her heart problems?
We wanted Mom nearby in case she needed surgery or something.
What was she thinking? Doing a trip like that with a bad heart?
And you’re supposed to be her friend. What were you thinking? ”
“I was thinking that your mom is a grown woman. That she is full of life and wisdom and perfectly capable of making her own decisions,” Miranda declared vehemently.
“You know how much your mother loves Christmas. It was her choice to run that contest on her Christmas website. Joy just wanted to lend a hand so some unfortunate people could celebrate Christmas. And she’s done that.
She’s done it marvelously. If you don’t believe me, maybe you should check out her website.
Joy is nearly eighty-six years old, and she has the right to live her last days as she sees fit.
” Miranda paused to catch her breath. Had she really just said all that?
“Yeah . . . well, I guess you’re right. But the timing is a little crazy.”
Miranda had no response. Nothing she cared to say out loud anyway.
“Well, tell her I’ll be there later this evening. I’ll see if Rob can come too. In the meantime, please keep me posted on my mother’s condition. Call or text this number if there’s any news. Good or bad.”
She promised she would before she hung up. It hadn’t been an easy conversation, but she figured it had been necessary. Hopefully Joy wouldn’t be too disappointed that Miranda had ratted her out. That is, if Joy was still breathing. Miranda prayed that she was.
After nearly two long hours of waiting and sitting and pacing and far too much caffeine, Miranda was informed that Joy was awake and asking for her.
“But no longer than ten or fifteen minutes,” the nurse warned Miranda as she led her through the ICU area. “She needs her rest.”
Relieved and eager to see her dear friend, Miranda hurried into the room only to discover Joy looking pale and frail and encompassed with tubes and machines. But when she saw Miranda, her sweet smile was like a ray of sunshine.
Miranda rushed to her side, grasping Joy’s wrinkled hand. “I’m so glad to see you,” she whispered. “How are you?”
“I’m just fine, dear. So sorry to have scared you like that,” Joy said slowly.