Back on that night in July when everything changed I arrived at the Emergency Room via ambulance with a full blown heart attack. The doctors, nurses, and staff were barking orders, hooking up lines, cutting off my clothing. The questions they asked of me pertained to medical history and medications I was taking which were none on both accounts. Each time I wanted to slip off in a sleep to avoid the excruciating paid, they damanded I stay with them. These people looked quite nervous. That didn’t help my feeling of panic at all.
Soon I was wheeled into what appeared to be an operating room. In this room was a new set of people rushing about and hooking up even more equipment. The terminology became more technical and I had a hard time following what was being said. A man in scrubs walked up to me on my right side. He seemed so much calmer than everyone else in the room. He looked at me in my eyes, the first time this had happened since my arrival. He asked me, “How are you feeling?” I replied that it really hurt. I asked, “What is your name?” He replied, “Eli.” He was a light skinned black person, the color of a cafe latte with a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. The calm he exuded drew me to him. He went on to say, “You are going to be ok. You can go to sleep now.” He reached out and held my hand as I slipped into a quiet, calm, and painless sleep.
Since that day, I have returned to that very facility on a number of occassions. I have asked people in different departments about him. None know of him. Just yesterday I was back in the Cath Lab for another procedure. One of the gals was also on my case in July. It is easy to remember the “30 year old with a heart attack.” She said there was no one there by that name or description.
Who is Eli? I don’t know, but he helped calm my mind and my worry when I needed it most.