I missed him deeply, I didn’t know him too well before his death because he was too involved in his own life to be there for me and my teenage mother. I just knew something, or someone was missing..

My mother would tell me stories here and there about him but I never met anyone from his side of the family to help me fill in the blanks. As a little girl I would write him letters and leave them in my bible in hopes that God would deliver them to him. I would fantasize about what life would be like if he were here, I would stare out of the window hoping to catch a glimpse of him walking toward my building, scanning the faces of various men in hopes that I would find a match to the image I saw in a picture at my grandmothers house. I would often become jealous of my friends who’s fathers were alive and still in their lives because I longed to know how having a father felt. Throughout my journey to wrap my head around the concept of death, I thought if I begged God enough he would bring my father back to me since daddies were not supposed to leave their little girls behind. Daddy was supposed to come and save me when I was in trouble as a child, yet I found myself without a super man. With time I grew to learn that missing someone to this point is normal, it’s called grief and there’s no timeline for this multi level healing process. 

..when the death angel started to add my name to the list I was the exact same age as my father was when he passed.

My near death experience was 9 years ago. It was an ice cold March day in 2007. I can still feel the biting cold that engulfed me as I walked to the hospital. For a moment I felt so alone passing through the crowd of people going about their business on Steinway Street. No one took notice of the dying woman as I walked 10 long blocks to the hospital to find out what happened to my left arm which was now hot to the touch had swelled immensely. It had filled with so much blood that it looked like it was going to pop. I had no idea what going on I was thought it was just a bug bite. I can remember the day before I made it to the hospital like it was yesterday. I was lying in my bedroom after just putting my baby down for a nap, my boyfriend walked in and asked about my arm and said "My mother said go to the hospital and get that checked out.” I had this sinking feeling in my gut and I think I may have said “no I’ll just make a doctor’s appointment for next week" Honestly I hated the hospital in our neighborhood for various reasons. The only comfort that I had on my walk was the thought of my boys. My intentions were to come back home cuddle up with them and watch the Knicks game (yes I’m a proud fan and I never miss a game). I had a six year old and a 3 week old waiting for me and no time to stay in a hospital. I even told my boyfriend that I’ll be back by the time the game started. When I finally reached the emergency room I felt something was different. I waited about five minutes before being called... "Wow That was quick" I thought to myself. I sat in the newly renovated nurse’s station watching the triage nurse move nervously around the room as she waited for the doctor to arrive. By this time she had checked my vitals twice and began to ask me questions like are you a smoker? No. Are you a victim of domestic violence? Hell No! Have you fallen on your arm in the last 24hrs? Nope. Do you feel any pain in your chest? Not at all. I continued to sit and play a game of solitaire on my phone thinking why the heck is she repeating herself? I let out a sigh and mumbled “this better not take long, I have to walk back home and the later it gets the colder it gets." When the doctor came in I could tell by the look on his face that he was a bit concerned he looked at the chart, took one look at my arm and asked me to follow him to the "cozy" emergency room. He pointed to an empty bed and told me to lie down then he walked away. Leaving me there to wonder what the hell was going on, my mind was racing at top speed I needed to calm down so I started to pray. About two minutes later my doctor returned with a second doctor and a lab technician who was pushing a wheel chair in my direction all with a somber yet urgent look on their face. My heart sank.. Right then and there I realized that what I was about to be told would change me forever... “Ms. Brown we are going to take you for some x-rays and take a sample of your blood, please be careful getting off the bed and into the wheel chair, you are in a very critical state.” “What do you mean critical?” I asked now feeling a pang of fear nestle in my stomach “I feel fine, I guess something bit me that I’m allergic to that’s all.” The doctors said nothing more as they slowly maneuvered my wheelchair through the tiny halls of the ER carefully clearing everyone out of our way as if I were contagious or something. “What the hell is going on?” I thought to myself “Critical? How can that be?” After the testing was done the doctors wheeled me back to my bed and told me to stay in a seated position, they sent a nurse over to sit by my bedside just in case I needed to stand up… but no one would explain what they thought was going on. “Critical...” that word kept playing in my mind over and over again, anxiety became my companion at this point as I tried to think of what could be wrong with me. I thought of every type of rare disease that would put my in a critical state even though I felt fine and looked fine on the outside. My hands dripped with sweat at the thought of the doctors coming back with the “alarming” test results. “you’re OK, you feel fine, it’s not as bad as they’re making it out to be” I thought, trying to calm myself down but as soon as I caught my breath I saw the doctors walk back looking more concerned than before. Damn! “Ms. Brown, how did you arrive at the hospital?” the doctor asked, “Why? What did my test results say?” I snapped, a bit annoyed that I was still being grilled but not told what the hell was wrong with me. “Calm down Ms. Brown” he said softly “I’m just amazed at the fact that you’re so young, too young to go be going through what you’re going through, I’m waiting for my supervisor to come down to talk to you” “Just great...” I thought “I have some “Critical” matter that no one would tell me about, the doctors are treating me like they are going to confine me to a bubble, I miss my kids & I’m going to miss the Knicks game! Plus there’s that long walk back home in the cold! Ugh!” Just then the supervisor walks in briskly and heads straight for my bed with the same look that everyone else had on their face. When he reached me he looked as if I had three heads or that he just found Atlantis I don’t know. He pulled my chart from the side of the bed and sat next to me. “Ms. Brown let me start off my saying I’m happy you made it to the hospital in time, if you would have waited another day or even a few more hours, you would have died.” “What!” I yelled, no caring about the other patients in the ER “Let me explain,” he said pulling my x-ray out of the chart. “You have a huge blood clot in your left arm, actually it’s not even a clot anymore your entire vein is blocked from your elbow up to your shoulder. The blockage is so close to your heart, that’s why you have to be very careful how you move around If even a small fraction of the clot breaks off and travels to your heart it will kill you instantly. In all of my years of practice I have never seen someone so young with a blockage this severe, this usually happens to the elderly who are bed ridden. You are a rare case to say the least. We have to admit you tonight and immediately and start you on blood thinners in hopes to save your life. We will call the main hospital after you’re admitted just in case we need to transport you for surgery.” As he went on his words began to fade behind my thoughts of all the things I had just accomplished just months ago, I was in complete survival mode up until this point. Just six months ago I was a pregnant, single mother who worked and was in my last semester of school. The father of my children decided to move to another state to pursue his dream of being in music, being that I was the supportive "ride or die type" I wished him well in hopes that he would make it. I took a huge risk and quit my job because I wanted to finish earning my degree before the baby came I did not want the excuse that I decided to have another baby be a reason not to finish what I started. Exactly one month before my son was born, I walked across the stage and accepted my associate’s degree in business, I was huge! Thank God for that extra large gown...seesh! Things seemed to be falling into place for me. My first apartment, a new baby a college degree I felt loved me I was on my way I finally had a chance to ground myself. I never expected to be here receiving a potential death sentence. “Life is funny” I chuckled to myself looking around at the emergency room trying not to break down and cry.

Second Chances..

By the time I made it to my assigned room and bed, I was mentally drained. The awaiting nurse and supervisor helped me to the rest room and back to my bed I was now considered a fall risk "Oh God Im going to have to get a medical alert bracelet" I joked with the supervisor just to lighten the mood a little. Everyone looked so serious when handling me I did my best to assure them that I could walk on my own and that I felt fine but they ignored me and continued to watch me pee. I felt so embarrassed but I had to get over it fast because the supervisor assured me that I will be treated this way until the clot dissolved. “ok and how long will that be?" I asked desperate for them to tell me tomorrow "well that’s up to the clot...” the doctor chimed in "we have to give you blood thinners in hopes that the clot dissolves on its own." He said as he prepared my medicine he handed me two small pills and a cup of water. "Here take this it’s Coumadin or Warfarin a type of blood thinner." As I reached out He jerked the cup back with a stern look on his face. "Do not! Move that arm! That’s where the clot is remember, we do not want you to help the clot break off it will travel to the heart or lungs so please be careful." "Ok.... but that’s going to be difficult because I’m a lefty...." I began to say as the nurse instructed me to put my head back. She dropped the two pills into my mouth from the cup and helped me sip the water. "Now I know what my infant feels like...” I joked again as I spotted a long needle and a vial on the table. My heart began beating a mile a minute "What’s that for?" I asked. "Oh this? This is the rest of your medicine It’s called Lovenox and it’s given via syringe. He instructed me to lay down as the nurse swabbed my belly "Wait, what hold up! Where is that going?!" I sat up almost forgetting the doctors’ orders to watch my arm.