Stacy

 

 

Stacy

 

Stacy was scared, more scared than she had ever been in her life. The co-pilot grabbed her quickly and placed her in the helicopter for the quick ride to the hospital. She could see and hear the frantic efforts to keep her mother alive going on in the back of the helicopter.

She strained against the safety harness as she turned to watch her dad and his long time partner fight to save her mother’s life. If this was the last time she would see her mother alive, she wanted to see her for as long as she could.  The back of the helicopter was very crowded, so much so that she had a hard time seeing anything, but what she did see made her proud of her father and what he did for a living. This was where reality TV leaves off and reality takes over. There were no producers deciding what good TV was and what wasn’t. This was reality and she had been a part of helping save her mother’s life, if they were successful.

Amanda was at her mother’s head and kept a running conversation with Stacy’s mother. Stacy and Amanda’s eyes met and Stacy was immediately struck at the compassion held in those big brown eyes. They were bright and positive, much like the look she always saw in her father. Stacy also noticed that Greg, a great friend and partner to her dad was helping as much as he could in the cramped quarters. He was holding her mom’s hand, helping place a tube in her mother’s chest and holding IV bags. He talked in short bursts as they reported her mother’s condition.

Stacy also noticed one thing about all of the rescuers. It was something she knew she would remember all of her life. Her mother was covered in blood. Blood was everywhere it seemed, but not a single person in the back of the helicopter had bothered to put on a pair of protective gloves. She could understand her dad not wearing gloves to treat her mom, but the rest of the crew?

Stacy looked at her own hands. She had her mother’s blood on her hands as well. She was a step ahead of her dad and she placed her right hand on what she thought was the worst of her mother’s wounds. She must have been right, because her dad had her press very hard while they placed gauze over the wound.

The pilot glanced at Stacy once they were airborne. She managed a weak smile at him, and he motioned for her to put the helmet on. She strapped the helmet on and she could hear the staccato voices over the headphones. The pilot’s voice came through over them all.

“We’ll be landing in a few seconds. I’ll take you to the hospital myself, so don’t go jumping out. The blades on this helicopter swing very low in front and I don’t want you to get hurt. Your sister is in the ER and she’s pretty shook up right now. She’s going to need you.”

“Does she know?”

“No, but she knows we had to leave her to get back to the Tower. She’s been yelling at me over the handheld I gave her. She’s pretty upset.”

“Thanks” was all Stacy could manage to say. She could imagine Kimberly fuming in the waiting area. She wasn’t the most patient person in the world, and leaving her in the ER without an explanation must have really set her off.

“I’ve seen your Dad save people who were much worse off than your mom, Stacy. Have faith, trust in his skills and say a few prayers.”

The Sikorsky S-76 set down on the helipad and the awaiting ground crew was ready to transport them the short distance to the ER. Stacy wanted to ride with them, but she obeyed the pilot and waited for him to escort her out of the aircraft.

“Come on! Let’s get you inside,” he said. “You may want this to cover up and help keep you warm once we you get in the waiting room. It is a hospital and it will be chilly. Your sister was about to freeze!” He gave Stacy her warm up suit and she quickly pulled the pants on as she ran with the pilot to the hospital’s security car.

“You really think my mom is going to live?”

“Stacy, she had the best crew possible working on her. It’s in the hands of the trauma surgeons now, but she had the best of care before the surgeons get their turn.”

Stacy closed her eyes and began to pray silently to herself. There were several small prayers she could remember as a child, but her father had told her not to worry about fancy words or phrases when she wanted to pray. “Just talk and he will listen, just like you talk to me and I listen.”

Those words meant so much to her right now, and she talked and hoped He would give her the answer she wanted.