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Authors: Mike Warren
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Mother said, sounding out of breath.
After a few minutes of punching keys on the computer, the receptionist informed us that a Mr. Raymond Watson was brought in about an hour or so ago and was being prepped for surgery , and his doctor was Dr. Ros s.
“And where can I find this Dr. Ros s?” Mo ther began tapping her right foot.
“He’s with your son in room 316. Once you sign in, you can take the elevator , located here on the left, go to the third floor , and make a right.
Mo ther signed us both i n on a sheet of paper attached to a clipboard , and t he receptionist then gave us passes to enter the third floor.
As we rode up in the elevator M o ther kept praying out loud and saying the same thing over and over, “Oh Lord , please , don’t take my son from me.”
As we exited the elevator, we made a right and came across a sign with double doors that read “Intensive Care Unit . ” As we open ed the double doors, I began counting down the room numbers. Ray’s room was the last one on the right - hand side.
I reached out and grabbed M o ther ’ s hand as we entered the room , a nd what I saw made me want to puke. Mo ther immediately began to cry . A ll I could do was just stare at Ray because I had never known anyone who ha d been shot . T hey had tubes coming in and out of his body, tubes up his nose, down his throat , and his face , swollen twice its size, was unrecognizable . I f it weren’t for the chain I ’d bought him and the tuxedo he wore , I would not have known that this young man was my brother.
Dr. Ros s turned to fac e us. “Excuse me, can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m M r s. Wilson ,” Mother said through tears as she approached Ray. “T his is my son . ”
Honey, I felt so weak, I couldn’t seem to take another step . I stood with my back against the wall , my head hung low. I wasn’t sure why , but I was afraid of this man lying on the bed unconscious and fighting for his life. I knew this was my brother , but because of the way he looked, as far as I was concern ed , he was a complete stranger. My little body began to shake uncontrollably and lower its elf to the floor .
“Hello , M r s. Wilson , I’m Dr. Ros s,” he replied , extending his hand.
Mo ther never bothered to shake Dr. Ros s ’ hand because her focus was on Ray . “Is he gonna be al l right , doctor ?” she asked , tears flowing a s she held Ray’s right hand .
“I wish I could answer that , Mrs. Wilson , but I can’t . ” Dr. Ros s continued to examine Ray.
Mother yelled, “What do you mean , you can’t ? ”
“Mrs. Wilson, your son has sustained a serious gunshot injury , and to be honest, even if we go in and try to retrieve the bullet, there’s no guarantee he will survive it.”
“And if you don’t operate?” Mother asked, sounding defeated.
Dr. Ros s replied softly , “He will surely die.”
Once Dr. Ros s told M other that Ray would die if they didn’t operate, she instantly fainted. Dr. Ros s press ed the emergency button , and other doctors and nurses came running in the room. They placed M other up on a gurney and rolled her out of the room.
I stayed curled up against the wall not knowing whether to cry, pray , or scream. Once the y rolled Mother out of the room, I stood up and tiptoed over to this stranger lying on his back , fighting for his life , on life support , and tubes running in and out of his mouth and up his nose. The tears started to flow down my cheeks . I realized that even if my brother did survive the operation, he would never be the same Ray I knew and loved .
I leaned my head down on his chest just so I could feel closer to him and to listen to his heartbeat . I was wish ing I hadn’t made him mad before going to his p rom . I wanted to take it all back.
I whispered in his ear, “I’m so so sorry for what I said , Ray . I really didn’t mean any of it. Please, don’t die . ”
Suddenly the machine Ray was hooked up to began beeping loudly , and the next
After a few minutes of punching keys on the computer, the receptionist informed us that a Mr. Raymond Watson was brought in about an hour or so ago and was being prepped for surgery , and his doctor was Dr. Ros s.
“And where can I find this Dr. Ros s?” Mo ther began tapping her right foot.
“He’s with your son in room 316. Once you sign in, you can take the elevator , located here on the left, go to the third floor , and make a right.
Mo ther signed us both i n on a sheet of paper attached to a clipboard , and t he receptionist then gave us passes to enter the third floor.
As we rode up in the elevator M o ther kept praying out loud and saying the same thing over and over, “Oh Lord , please , don’t take my son from me.”
As we exited the elevator, we made a right and came across a sign with double doors that read “Intensive Care Unit . ” As we open ed the double doors, I began counting down the room numbers. Ray’s room was the last one on the right - hand side.
I reached out and grabbed M o ther ’ s hand as we entered the room , a nd what I saw made me want to puke. Mo ther immediately began to cry . A ll I could do was just stare at Ray because I had never known anyone who ha d been shot . T hey had tubes coming in and out of his body, tubes up his nose, down his throat , and his face , swollen twice its size, was unrecognizable . I f it weren’t for the chain I ’d bought him and the tuxedo he wore , I would not have known that this young man was my brother.
Dr. Ros s turned to fac e us. “Excuse me, can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m M r s. Wilson ,” Mother said through tears as she approached Ray. “T his is my son . ”
Honey, I felt so weak, I couldn’t seem to take another step . I stood with my back against the wall , my head hung low. I wasn’t sure why , but I was afraid of this man lying on the bed unconscious and fighting for his life. I knew this was my brother , but because of the way he looked, as far as I was concern ed , he was a complete stranger. My little body began to shake uncontrollably and lower its elf to the floor .
“Hello , M r s. Wilson , I’m Dr. Ros s,” he replied , extending his hand.
Mo ther never bothered to shake Dr. Ros s ’ hand because her focus was on Ray . “Is he gonna be al l right , doctor ?” she asked , tears flowing a s she held Ray’s right hand .
“I wish I could answer that , Mrs. Wilson , but I can’t . ” Dr. Ros s continued to examine Ray.
Mother yelled, “What do you mean , you can’t ? ”
“Mrs. Wilson, your son has sustained a serious gunshot injury , and to be honest, even if we go in and try to retrieve the bullet, there’s no guarantee he will survive it.”
“And if you don’t operate?” Mother asked, sounding defeated.
Dr. Ros s replied softly , “He will surely die.”
Once Dr. Ros s told M other that Ray would die if they didn’t operate, she instantly fainted. Dr. Ros s press ed the emergency button , and other doctors and nurses came running in the room. They placed M other up on a gurney and rolled her out of the room.
I stayed curled up against the wall not knowing whether to cry, pray , or scream. Once the y rolled Mother out of the room, I stood up and tiptoed over to this stranger lying on his back , fighting for his life , on life support , and tubes running in and out of his mouth and up his nose. The tears started to flow down my cheeks . I realized that even if my brother did survive the operation, he would never be the same Ray I knew and loved .
I leaned my head down on his chest just so I could feel closer to him and to listen to his heartbeat . I was wish ing I hadn’t made him mad before going to his p rom . I wanted to take it all back.
I whispered in his ear, “I’m so so sorry for what I said , Ray . I really didn’t mean any of it. Please, don’t die . ”
Suddenly the machine Ray was hooked up to began beeping loudly , and the next
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