The Ambulance Ride

If Hedley had a newspaper, my photo and name would almost certainly have been on the front page last Thursday. It wasn’t that I had done something remarkable, but when an ambulance arrives in town people take note. Because Hedley is a small community, we know most people here and immediately wonder who the ambulance has come for. On Thursday I was that someone.

This little “adventure” began when I awoke and instructed my body to exit the bed. I had things to accomplish and it was time to get moving, but my body seemed to not comprehend. When there was no response I was puzzled and troubled. What was causing this sluggishness? Had I suffered a stroke while sleeping?

My dread of strokes had settled upon me during the six years my dad was in a long term care facility in Abbotsford. Every time I visited him I saw lonely, incapacitated individuals, some of whom had been confined by a stroke to a wheelchair or bed. I was appalled at their state of helplessness and since then I’ve committed to doing whatever possible to avoid such a calamitous outcome. For years each morning Linda and I have begun our day with 45 minutes of stretches and exercises. In the late afternoon we walk around the perimeter of Hedley one or more times. In the evening I do a brief workout with light weights. I limit my coffee intake to one cup per day, drink little alcohol and have never smoked.

Lying in my bed that morning, I felt betrayed by my body. If this was what I feared, our idyllic lives in Hedley would never be the same.

These thoughts had free rein while I struggled toward the edge of the bed. With considerable effort I managed to place my feet on the floor, then by holding on to furniture wobbled toward a chair. When I tried to sit down I barely avoided crashing to the floor.

“Call 911,” I whispered to Linda. “Something has happened. I may have had a minor stroke.”

About half an hour later an ambulance arrived and I was heartened to see that one of the paramedics was our friend Tim Roberts. He helped me to our front door where another paramedic waited with a stretcher. Bereft of strength, I slumped into the stretcher and they carried me to the ambulance. Tim immediately affixed wires connecting me to a monitor. “This is to provide preliminary information for the hospital,” he explained. He asked a series of questions including “what day of the month is it today?” I guessed wrong. He also instructed me to smile. I would again be asked similar questions by nurses at the hospital.

“If you don’t find anything negative,” I said, “are you going to let me out of here?” Without pausing, Tim said, “no, we’re going to the hospital.” It wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

Lying on the narrow cot with Tim at my side conducting tests, all I could do was think about the implications of this unwelcome development. I recalled my desire on my 80^th birthday to finish strong. Linda and I have always sought to make a positive contribution to our community and I had hoped we’d be able to continue. And now this.

At the hospital there were more tests. Several nurses checked on me during the day and each asked what day of the month it was.(I was tempted to ask if the hospital didn’t have a calendar). They also instructed me to smile.

In the meantime, several neighbours offered to drive Linda to the hospital. Someone had my name added to the local church’s prayer list. A friend in Pt. Alberni called. Other calls indicated that people were concerned and wanted to stand by us.

At the end of a long day they did a CT Scan and then a doctor informed me the tests did not indicate a stroke. My body was beginning to function with less distress and Linda showed up to take me home. We agreed the episode was likely due to an unfamiliar sleep medication.

The experience certainly rattled me but was it a wasted day? Hardly. For me it was a reminder that life can be devastated in a moment. Life is too precious to be frittered away by complacency. I need to attend to important matters before my time runs out.

This incident occurred January 12, 2023, due to a computer glitch I was unable to post it until now.