On Friday I received a voicemail. It was a man named Mark who identified himself as a social worker calling from the Memorial City Hospital emergency room.
When I called the number back the receptionist asked, “Do you know the patient’s name?” to which I answered in a quivery voice, “No, I don’t know anything.”
She put me on hold. While on hold I had the following thoughts:
Benson wrecked his scooter.
No he didn’t. I just hung up with him. He’s at work.
I’m not ready to lose him!
Oh yeah, it can’t be him.
My friend Annie was in a car wreck.
I’m not ready to lose Annie!
Oh wait; she’s in Oregon.
My famil – nope. They all live in Atlanta.
Who the BLEEP is dead?!
After a moment, Mark picked up the line.
Oh God! “Yes?”
“This is Mark with the Memorial City emergency room –”
They say there’s “before the incident” and “after the incident” and that your whole life is based on that after something huge happens. This would be my last “before”. I grabbed my chest and waited.
“Do you know an Anita Holly?”
Anita? Anita. Who is Anita? I don’t know an Anita.
“ I don’t know that person,” I said.
“Oh, well, your number was listed on her file. Just a mistake. Thank you.”
I hung up and started crying and dropped to the floor and hugged my dog and called Benson. I wanted to hear his voice and thank him for being alive, but my call went straight to his voicemail. Then I got a text: Benson was pooping and couldn’t answer the phone. He’d call me in a bit.
And that was enough for me.
On another note, I just discovered the fancy picture settings on my camera phone and am busy trying to make my ordinary life seem like a magical fairy land awash with deep hues and thoughts. I have two primary subjects.
Cowboy ponders the poetry I read aloud to him on long summer days…
He actually hates the camera and was looking away since I had it in his face. Plus, I don’t read poetry except for this one girl on my Facebook who ONLY puts poetry as her status updates.
Harold, on the other hand, has no qualms about the camera…
Finally, my balcony. That’s actually a dead plant behind the table, but other than that I think this picture makes my life look quiet and dreamy and makes me seem like a person who would wear lots of cotton…
(BTW – If you happen to know Anita Holly, you might want to call Memorial City Hospital.)
Categories: This and That