Barreling down the four-lane divided highway early Sunday morning at nearly twice the speed limit, I had to get my wife to the Emergency Room. Our minivan loaded with all my prized possessions, had been instantly converted to a formula one racecar. The girls cried and whined in the back. Laura, in the passenger seat, looked at me and said “Drive faster. Drive faster. If I don’t make it, make sure to tell them my pain is right here (holding her chest) and that my feet are starting to tingle.”
Hold it together Adam, I reminded myself. “Girls, shut up and just be quiet!” Heavy on the gas as well as my horn I dodged cars left and right, ran red lights, passed on the left shoulder, right shoulder, cut through parking lots, anyway to get there faster. Six miles and five minutes later, we come to a slamming halt right in front of the Baptist Health Emergency Room. I grabbed the diaper bag, activity bags, our three girls, and helped Laura through the sliding glass doors to an empty ER waiting room.
~ Excerpt from Write It Down