The Widow and The Groomer

April 6, 2013

“Devin, have you seen my keys? We have to leave for your birthday party soon.”

“No mom. Did you leave them in the car again?”

As much as I hated to admit it, he was probably right. I walked to the car, and he was right. There they were on the floor mat. I stooped down, picked them up, and my phone rang. It was MidAtlantic NeuroSurgical Group.

“Mrs. Fosu?” the voice said. “This is Dr. Dubois from Overlook Hospital, MidAtlantic NeuroSurgical Group.”

“Yes? This is she.”

“Mrs. Fosu, we have an emergency here with Dominic. He is having a major stroke, and we need your consent to do emergency surgery now and remove a part of his skull, now, or he is going to die.”

The world spun around me, and I collapsed into the car seat. It was like looking through the wrong end of a telescope. Everything around me—the warmth of the sun, the smell of the fresh-cut grass, the noise of my family in the background—faded into the distance.

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