All the Way Home by Natale Ghent

Author:Natale Ghent [Ghent, Natale]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-443-40147-0
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2006-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

chapter 11

i lose hope

I’ve been sitting in the waiting room for nearly three hours, monitoring the rhythms of the Emergency ward. Most of the cases coming in don’t seem like emergencies at all: coughs and pains that seem to clear up on their own as soon as a prescription is written, twisted ankles and sore knees that just need a bit of ice or rest. I can’t believe people actually choose to come to the hospital instead of dealing with these things themselves. It’s like torture to have to be here.

In the hours that I’ve been waiting, I’ve travelled through every possible emotion, from hope to despair, to anger and sorrow and back again, the music from the ambulance looping endlessly through my head. I can’t believe that Ma would do something that would endanger her life. I can’t believe that she would rather die and leave us behind than go on and face things. I feel so sad, so guilty and sorry about everything. I wish Queenie and Cid were here. I miss Smokey like crazy and think about walking to the barn just to see him. In the hours I’ve spent waiting here, I could have been there and back several times. I don’t know why it’s taking so long and I think I’m going to freak out if something doesn’t happen soon.

As the night ticks away, more people leave than arrive, until there’s just me and a couple other people. The crying babies are gone, thankfully, and the kid with the smelly diaper too. Bobby the psychotic ambulance driver and his sidekick show up with another patient on a stretcher. It’s an old man, his face

pinched with pain—probably from the crazy ambulance ride he had to endure rather than some ailment he’s facing. But that’s pretty much it. The Emergency ward seems to be slowing down for the night. I check Dad’s watch. It’s 9:30.

By 9:45, I’m so upset and uncomfortable from sitting around waiting that I finally risk talking to Nurse Ratched. I approach her desk.

“Excuse me …”

She doesn’t look up.

“Excuse me … when can I see my mother?”

She continues to type as though I don’t exist, then finally flips through some sheets on another clipboard and scans the rows of entries.

“It’s Estabrooks,” I say, to help her along.

“The patient has been admitted to room 317.”

“What? Why didn’t they tell me?” I don’t even thank her, I just head for the elevators. I follow the signs on the walls, and as I’m coming around the corner I run smack into Cid and Queenie, coming from the other direction.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

They both seem totally relieved to see me. Cid is wearing my old Toronto Maple Leafs cap over her crazy hair. Queenie is a mess, wearing a faded Bugs Bunny T-shirt and a worn pair of sweatpants. The laces on her sneakers are undone. How did she get so dishevelled?

“We couldn’t wait any longer,” she says.

“We want to know what’s going on with Ma,” Cid says.

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