Moving and Shaking

My stay at the Heartbreak Hotel was now reaching two weeks, and though I knew the necessity of constant supervision to keep me alive, my patience was quickly growing thin.

I’d been in my “interim” room only a day when John walked in with a big smile on his face.  “They’re moving you,” he said.  “And you won’t believe it, it’s back to the same room you were in on the Cardiac Ward before.”

He walked over and patted me on the arm.  “Hang in there, buddy,” he smiled, “we’re finally moving forward here.  Don’t rock the boat.”

I smiled and sat up in the bed.  “So what’s the next step, and how fast can I bust out of this place?”

“Hold on, cowboy,” he replied.  “Remember, they’re still deciding whether or not you need a pacemaker, though quite honestly, that’ll be a piece of cake compared to the last week.”

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Just then Carlotta, a large, attractive nurse, pushed the door open.  She’d been my night nurse over the last couple of days; a friendly sort, but one you knew you didn’t want to make mad or meet in a dark alley somewhere.

“Mr. Woodford,” she said, “get your things together.   The bus leaves in 10 minutes.”  She walked over and began checking my stats with her roll-away cart.  “This is what we like to see,” she said, “don’t want you staying too long with us.”

John walked around the room gathering what little I had brought into the room.  “No time like the present,” he said, picking up some magazines he’d brought earlier.

She’d barely had time to wrap the blood pressure cuff around my arm when the door swung open again and in came an orderly with a gurney in tow.  “Mr. Woodford, it’s time to get you back upstairs.”  He walked over and checked my arm band, asked me my name and birthday, and began lining up the gurney next to the bed.

“Wow, this is quick,” I commented.  “When you guys hit ‘go,’ you don’t mess around.”

“Need the room,” Carlotta replied.  “And since they have another upstairs for you, I want to make sure they don’t give it to someone else.”

I was so excited!  I would be able to see the sun again, look out a window onto the world at large, have my own bathroom — funny how the little things become so signficant at times like these.

As Jerome slid me onto the gurney, John stepped to the door.  “Room 347?” he asked Carlotta.

“That’s it!”  she said.  “Take good care of him, now.” 

As I rolled through the door, John stopped the gurney.  “I’ll go on up with your stuff,” he said.  “Meet you up there in  a few.”

I was out of Maximum Security and on my way to progress.  What was supposed to be a 5-day stay had grown to two weeks, with no mention of going home.  Still, the promise of real food, a private room and the joy of true peace and quiet made my newly rebuilt heart jump!

I thanked God as Jerome rode with me up the elevator, then momentarily wondered if the prayer had reached through the elevator walls, unlike cell phone conversations!  Oh well, didn’t matter — I knew the answer, and the answer was that God wasn’t done with me yet.