I was in luck.
The hospital orderly came to take me before my husband arrived. (Afterwards my husband told me that he just missed me). I was put on a stretcher and taken into a waiting ambulance.
Strapped to the stretcher inside the ambulance with nothing but the hospital pajamas I was wearing I felt alone and abandoned. I still had my cell phone but there was no one for me to call.
I had no one in my life who I could reach out to at that moment.
There was no one to comfort me and tell me that everything would be okay.
Tears slipped down my cheeks, but I brushed them away harshly.
I could not allow myself to cry.
Crying would not help me now.
I was alone and scared with only a black attendant sitting next to me. He stared at me silently as i struggled to swallow my tears.
I looked out of the window as trees and cars rushed by.
It was winter, but the sun was strong and high in the sky.
I felt horribly disconnected from anything real.
What was I doing here, while all the normal people in the world were going about their business and doing what normal people do?
What had I done to get myself into this situation?
How had I allowed this to happen?
The ambulance rumbled along the FDR drive while I lay on the stretcher alone and overwhelmed with sorrow and fear.
Cornell hospital in Westchester is situated on acres of green grass and tall leafy tress. The building itself reminds me of an old brick mansion. As I was rolled through the wide doors of the front entrance of the hospital I noticed the thick carpets and high ceilings. There were soft couches lining the huge corridors with lamps on side tables dotted here and there.
The atmosphere was calm and I began to feel less fearful.