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I pump up and down, counting while tears flood my eyes. The 911 operator is counting with me.
“Come on, Hayden,” I plead. “Wake up, please, wake up!” I finish thirty compressions and I lower my mouth to his. His lips stay still and his unseeing eyes unnerve me as I tilt his chin up and blow two quick breaths in before getting back to compressions.
I pump and pump and pump, and I count and count and count—barely feeling my hands anymore. I barely register the back pain or difficulty breathing because all I can focus on is Hayden and getting him to wake up. The woman on the phone tells me that if I can’t continue, I can stop. I think I curse at her.
I don’t see the paramedics walk in but before I know it they are here and talking to me. I look up at them, barely able to see them through my tears and realize they’re asking me questions.
“How long has he been down?” they ask again. I stare at them blankly, still pushing down on Hayden’s chest, unable to process my thoughts. But then I look down at my phone and see that I’ve been on the phone with 911 for about seven minutes.
“More than seven minutes,” I croak numbly, my body rocking of its own accord in the rhythm of the compressions. Someone touches my arm gently and pulls me back before someone else takes over. I fall backwards, unsteady before I pull myself together enough to sit back up on my knees. “His name is Hayden, he—he has no history of sickness or anything like that. He had a really bad headache tonight but he was fine otherwise. We were eating and talking and then he just collapsed.”
“Let’s get him on the stretcher,” another voice calls. I watch as they prepare the stretcher and get him on it without stopping the chest compressions.
Time seems to stand still. But at the same time it seems to be whirring past me too quickly for me to focus on anything. I hear their muffled voices but they also sound like they’re shouting. I feel my hands shaking and my own heartbeat pounds inside my head. I try to breathe, to focus on at least one thing. But even that is hard. I watch the frantic movements all around me, trying to understand what is happening.
How did I get here? How did I go from eating pizza on my couch watching a stupid TV show to surrounded by paramedics trying to figure out why Hayden won’t wake up?
They start wheeling the stretcher out hurriedly, and I numbly follow them. “Where are you going? You’re taking him to the hospital?”
“Yes. There’s room for you to ride in the front of the vehicle if you’d like?” one of the women asks.
“Y-yes,” I nod, I wipe my face again, trying to wipe away the cloudiness in my mind and focus on what's happening. I grab my phone off the floor and walk over to the counter to grab my keys.
They file out of the apartment, someone already has the elevator open and they crowd in. I can see that there’s no room for me so I run to the stairs. I quickly tap my screen until I find Madeline’s name and call her. She answers on the first ring.
“Maddie, I need you.” I rush out while running down the stairs as fast as I can, “Hayden,” I swallow a sob, “Hayden collapsed and he wasn’t breathing. They’re taking him to the hospital, we’re going there now.”
“Ana, oh my God. Are you okay?” Maddie asks frantically. “We can come pick you up!”
“I’m going in the ambulance,” I say as I open the door to the ground level lobby and see that they are already outside and loading him into the back of the ambulance. “They’re taking him to St. Anthony’s, please come.” I run to the vehicle and into the passenger seat where a man is holding the door open for me.
I feel like I’m in a fog. My brain seems to have shut off and I’m going on autopilot. The traffic lights and headlights seem to be brighter than usual and I feel like I have to squint to see the road in front of me. The ambulance drives fast and I find myself praying harder than I’ve ever prayed for anything before.
The minutes drag on painfully as I try to control my breathing. It seems like we drive for hours by the time we arrive at the hospital, but when I look at the clock I see that it’s only been about ten minutes.
The ambulance pulls up to the ER door and I see the frantic rush of people surrounding the vehicle as everyone piles out. I follow them, trying to stay out of the way as they carefully but hastily pull the stretcher out.
I elbow my way through the people trying to stay with Hayden. I catch glimpses of his lifeless body on the stretcher, EMS and nurses now crowding around him. They all start barking orders at each other, all in languages I don’t understand. I catch words like scans, epi, and codes, but they make no sense to me.
The mob of strangers head towards a door and enter it, leaving me behind. I try to follow but a nurse in light blue scrubs turns to me and says, “I’m sorry ma'am, you are not allowed back here.”
“I need to go with you,” I cry.
“We will come get you when we have information. Let us do our job and help your friend. We will come back to get you.”
I shake my head in protest but he’s already gone and I stand there watching the white door swing shut until it finally stills. The door is probably only two inches thick but it feels like a brick wall, a fortress keeping me away from the one I so desperately need to be with.
I fall to my knees, feeling helpless and weak. A hand touches my shoulder and I look up to see an elderly woman looking down at me.
“Let me check you in and then I can bring you to a different waiting area. They will come find you there when they are able to.”
I nod stiffly, wipe my face once more and stand up. My legs feel as if they might give out on me again. She guides me to the counter. I give her my license as she fills out a visitor pass and hands me a name sticker. I put it on my shirt and wait impatiently for the next step.
She leads me through a different set of doors and down a long hallway before turning a corner and towards a large area full of chairs, couches and tables. This room is much emptier, quieter.
“I know this is hard. But wait here and someone will come find you.” She gives me a sad and small smile before she turns and walks away. I fall into the chair.
I stare at the wall in front of me. Trying to summon some kind of feeling other than terror. Panic. I try to take deep breaths, to calm my heart because I keep almost falling into hysterics.
