Page 192 - Reason To Sing by Kelita Haverland

Reason To Sing

of my problem. I remove all emotion from the process. I bury
every single feeling. I just need to survive and get myself on the
other side of this abysmal mess.
My procedure is set for April 13th. A date I will never
forget. Hudson and I start the morning with coffee and the
newspaper, just like any other day. I am supposed to arrive at the
hospital after lunch. We have some errands to run, including a
Post Office stop. There are promotional packages and albums
being sent out as usual.
As Hudson enters our van, he places a handful of envelopes
on the dash. Just as he does, he lets out a scream that can only
be associated with pain. What is wrong? Is he having a heart
attack? “What, what is it, what’s wrong?” I am shouting.
Hudson cups his hand over his right eye. “My eye! It’s my
eye! Bloody hell!” He is writhing as he hits the steering wheel
repeatedly with his other hand.
“What do you mean? Your eye? What happened? Tell me!”
I lean into him, trying to understand.
“I don’t know. I think I must have poked my eye with the
edge of an envelope!”
“Oh no! Oh God! Can you see?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. Damn!”
My brain is in overdrive. What do we do now? Hudson is
immobilized.
“You don’t want to mess with your eye,” I proclaim
confidently. “Let’s get you to the Emergency.” Perfect. Now it’s
me driving him to the hospital. This is all crazy. I’m supposed
to be the one going to the hospital - not him!
The doctor informs Hudson that he has a scratched cornea
and that he’s very lucky it’s not worse. My husband will now
have to keep his eye patched and lie flat on his back in the dark
for at least 24 hrs.

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