We were now pretty early so we settled in at an eatery and used the smart phone to check the flight. 8:00 AM in the morning and it was already delayed an hour. But we only had 45 minutes between connections in Denver. So we rescheduled on a flight that wouldn’t leave Denver until about 7:30 pm. Of course, later that day while we were waiting in Denver, the 7:30 PM flight threw a delay of an hour so we didn’t leave until 8:30 MDT, 9:30 CST.
All during the day Matthew was getting slowly worse – much discomfort in the gut. This happens now anyway whenever he has any gas, so we were concerned but not totally alarmed. Amanda said, “We don’t have to worry until he takes a pain pill”. Matthew is fully aware that most heavy duty narcotics stop the bowel contractions that move things along down there and usually just toughs it out. Well, he took a pain pill just before we took the flight back to Houston.
Because of the rescheduling, we were scattered all over the plane on inside seats and couldn’t really talk to Matt during the flight. We landed, got off, and got about 200 feet down the concourse when Matthew started throwing up. I must say, he is a chip off the old block. We Haluska’s bazooka barf (projectile vomiting is the politically correct term, I suppose). And he did the family proud. Amanda and I exchanged looks – on the roller coaster again. A few minutes later he had a second wave, and then a third. The third wave was about half bright red blood. The roller coaster had just taken a steep dive.
Now, its midnight and the concourse is nearly deserted. The one airport employee we spotted took one look at the mess and disappeared to report it. No wheel chair in sight. So we pulled Matthew to his feet and started staggering towards the passenger pick-up place down by baggage claim. While we were trudging that way, I’m calling 911.
“Do you need medical, fire, or police assistance?”
“Medical.”
“Please hold while I transfer you.”
Great, calling for an ambulance at midnight and I get put on hold. But not long.
“What is your emergency?”
I try to keep calm, clear, and concise.
“My son has stage 4 colon cancer and is vomiting blood. We need an ambulance. Bush International Airport, terminal A, passenger pickup’”
Now I was hedging a little, because we were still trekking through the terminal, but I figured we could still beat them to the pick-up point.
“Is the person conscious?”
“Yes, he is vomiting blood.”
“What is your location?”
“Bush Continental Airport, terminal A, passenger pickup.”
“What is the street address?”
“Lady, I’m in terminal A of Bush… Continental…. Airport… It doesn’t HAVE a street address.”
“What are the nearest cross roads?”
Now we are deep in the airport, about a mile from the nearest named public streets, and I don’t know the names of them anyway.
“Lady, send an ambulance to BUSH… CONTENENTAL… AIRPORT… TERMINAL… A… PASSENGER…. PICK… UP…”
“One moment please while I try to locate that”
About a 20 second pause….
Now keep in mind we are still trudging through the airport, dragging 4 carry on suitcases, a backpack, and my laptop bag. She then starts telling me to lay Matthew on his side and not to give him any fluids, which, in fairness, is good first-aid for a person with a punctured lung. So I just humor her and say, “Right, yes, got it.”
So we make it to passenger pick-up. About 7 to 10 minutes later, a HUGE fire truck pulls up, lights and sirens on, and proceeds to block all the traffic in the passenger pickup zone. I figured maybe they had sent that too just in case some heavy rescue equipment was needed for Stage 4 colon cancer. I went over and knocked on the door.
“Are you looking for my son?”
“Person vomiting and needing an ambulance?”
“Yes.”
“Yep, that’s what we are here for.”
“But I called for an AMBULANCE!”
“I know, but we come first and then WE call the ambulance.”
Now, in fairness, this guy was just following protocol and immediately called for the ambulance without any more encouragement. There was an EMS on the truck too, and he took Matthew’s blood pressure, etc. while we were waiting.
Amanda and I had a quick discussion. Even with the blood, Matthew was probably not in any immediate life-threatening danger. So I left Amanda to go to the MD Anderson emergency room in the ambulance and left to take myself and Isaac home. One last little tib-bit. We were parked in a remote lot, had to wait for the shuttle, were the last ones off a full bus, then had to scout around a bit for the car. Then the Groupon that Amanda had purchased ahead of time would not scan correctly at the unmanned exit gate. Went over to the one manned booth and gave her the coupon. She said she couldn’t process it, but she did go down the row of machines at the gate until she found one that worked. Yeah!
As I was pulling out of the park-and-fly lot, one more delay. I had to stop while Matthew’s ambulance went past.
Next time I will play it this way:
“What is your emergency?”
“Fire! My son is on fire! Send a fire truck!”
That way, maybe they will send an ambulance first.
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Thanks for all the thoughts and support.
For those that prayed for Taryn today, her surgery went well.
Keep those prayers coming!
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