When the paramedics arrive, I am pushed aside. They say a bunch of words and numbers…shaking their heads in disapproval as if it is somehow my fault. They tell me he is breathing and they need to get him to a hospital if he’s going to make it. I nod and they load us into the back of the ambulance.
We arrive at the hospital some time later and I follow closely as they make their way past the ER reception desk. I ask if he is going to be all right but no one can hear me. I demand to know what they’re doing as I see medical utensils being prepared – but I am pushed aside by someone in blue scrubs. I scream for Will to let me know he is all right but I receive no answer. I push blue scrubs out of my way because Will has left my line of vision when someone in a white coat instructs her to take me into the waiting room.
“NO!” I scream, “I won’t leave him. Will! Don’t you leave me,” I scream, “Please don’t leave me.”
Blue scrubs takes me into the hallway and hands me some tissues, “Listen, it’s going to be all right. Your boyfriend is alive and we’re going to do our best to keep him that way.”
“Thank you,” I sniffle, blowing my nose into a Kleenex, “what’s happening to him?”
“He’s overdosing…on meth.”
“On what?!” I blubber.
“Methamphetamine – it’s a street drug.” she says, walking me down the hallway and into a room, “And, if you can, I’m going to need you to answer some questions.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“Your boyfriend had a seizure…”
“Ms. Sharkey,” the nurse says, inhaling deeply, “your boyfriend, William, is a methamphetamine addict. He’s built up a tolerance to the drug and needs more and more to achieve the high. Now, I need to know how long he has been using…”
There aren’t a lot of things worse than the love of your life being on their death bed…save for not being able to answer anything other than “I don’t know” to the questions that could take them off.