On hour 30-something... I started thinking that the big "cross-country ROAD TRIP!! YA!!!" that so many idealize as the ultimate MUST-DO during their relished "single-glory days"... is way over fantasized. I knew it would be a lot... but the magnitude of 43 hours driving alone for this girl that is famous for her alarming narcoleptic driving patterns... was more than I could have really fathomed before leaving.
It many ways... it was what I so desperately needed. After months of being socially overdone and much emotional chaos.. the long hours of solitude, pondering, reflection, and revelation... was the exact treatment for many of my secret ailments. I needed time with myself.... and myself was happy to secretly elope with... myself. Yet... my tense post-mexican-zumba legs did not get along well with 10 hours a day of sitting and driving, nor with the burdensome cold that made a guest appearance along the way. So... by friday night... I was feeling maxed out and upon seeing a Motel 6 in Kingston, Canada.... I was ready to see nothing else but a pillow. I had been staying in Motel 6 the whole way (yes... I know... the Peck family will be so appalled... but after some hostels in Central America- it was basically a Renaissance to me...) and was just going where it was the cheapest. When I walked in this friday night... and they started assigning me a room.... something did not feel right. Before I could even mentally digest it.. I realized I was already out of the hotel and getting into my car. I said to myself, "Kali! what are you doing? Where else are you going to stay? Your GPS isn't working and who knows where else a hotel is going to show up!"... but... I just... started driving. Many miles down the road, I came to a Comfort Inn... and when I realized it would be twice as much as the Motel 6 (totally against my personal budget and policy...) I again realized I had no control over my body as I saw my hand giving my credit card to the man at the desk. Again...I was so confused... but I felt at peace.. and didn't know why. So... I just accepted that I was doing one of those weird random things that didn't resonate with my mental reasoning... but was right?
Once I dropped my backpack on the bed and finished a phone call... I suddenly heard a soul-piercing scream. My stomach dropped... and had an instant understanding that someone was dying. I ran across the hall and pounded on the door and just heard gasps of a woman... and I yelled, "OPEN THE DOOR!!!"... and the door opened to find a frantic woman babbling something about, "My husband! It's my husband!" I burst into the room... and then she said, "No! the bathroom!" I tried to open the bathroom... but the resistance against it only allowed me a glimpse of a man face down. I shoved my way in and when I couldn't find a pulse... I tried to get him on his back. I had to yell to the wife, "GET IN HERE AND HELP ME FLIP HIM! NOW!" and she got in and we struggled and finally got him over. I immediately started compressions and told her to call 911 or whatever it was in Canada!
This was a fairly big man... and I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep doing compressions until the paramedics go there... so while pumping away... I had to tell the wife, "I need you to calm down and get ready to do compressions." and she screamed, "I can't! I don't know how!" and I yelled back, "You're have to! Get down here! Get ready!" and... I made her pound on her husbands chest as she sobbed. I ran out in to the hall and found 3 men standing there stunned and trying to understand why we were screaming. I pulled them in and told them to get ready and GO! We continued to rotate doing compressions for probably 12-15 minutes... though it felt like forever. It was terrible. There was so much I wanted to do... but didn't have my team or equipment to do it. I tried to give him respirations after trying to clean the vomit from his mouth... but his airway was too occluded. I felt helpless. All I could do was coach the compressions and pray for a miracle.
When the paramedics got there and took over... I heard the wife tell the whole story. She related that he ran into the bathroom while she parked the car and brought the suitcases in... and had been in the room for 10 minutes or so thinking he was just doing normal business on the toilet (like anyone would have thought!) until she checked on him. I realized that I had been pounding on a man that had probably been dead for over 10 or 15 minutes before I got to him. We didn't know how to tell the wife... so we kept coding him.. they did everything right... everything possible... but after doing CPR for a total of 25-30 minutes... we were out of options. Before they called it.. I went into the room (because they had carried him into the hall)... and pulled this woman into my arms... and said, "I am so sorry". What else could I say?
It is a running joke that I am "The Death Nurse". They seem to give me the patients that are expected to die... or need treatment discontinued. I think it is an honor to be their nurse at that stage of life... and it is a sacred joy for me. I don't know how many times I've pronounced someone dead... or have to explain to the family why this is the end. For me... it is a calling... and I love it. Yet... this moment... was one of the hardest ones for me. This wasn't in the hospital. I didn't have days and weeks of time with this woman... I didn't even know her name. She didn't have days or even hours to prepare for this... this man didn't even have a cold before she found him like this. .. this was a very different case for me. I wanted to collapse on the ground and sob with her... out of my own shock, frustration, exhaustion, horror, and sadness... but that had to come later. This was her time.
When the paramedic came in, and knelt at her knee and looked up at her with so much regret and said, "...I am so sorry..."... she lost it and I had never felt so helpless as I did in that moment. All I could do was hold her with all the strength left in my arms as she sobbed and screamed in an agony that I can't even begin to comprehend.
I started to feel like a failure. I am an ICU nurse... I was the first responder... I was so clearly led to be there in that hotel.. in that room... in that moment... but... why? I couldn't save him.I started to think..." Could I have found him sooner somehow? Was there something else I could have done that could have brought him back? Why was I there then?" ... as I held my new friend and sister in my arms.. the words floated into my heart,
"You are there so that she knows that I am here."
After the detective finished asking her all the mandatory questions... and she and I were alone... I felt to ask her, "Rebecca.. do you believe in God?" ... she she said, "No... but it would probably help right now." Then I hesitated to ask... but couldn't deny the prompting... "But...Do you mind if we pray to Him?"... and she said, "Please." ... I could barely talk... there were so many emotions... and I was so desperate for His help and comfort for her... that words did not seem a sufficient supplication.
We spent the next 3-4 hours together... sitting in the dinning area of this Comfort Inn.. in the dark. Half of the time was spent in silence.. as this young and sweet 31 year old woman struggled to grasp the reality of that evening. I tried not to overwhelm her... I tried no to be preachy.... but I was blessed with the right moments to be able to testify to her with surety this life is not the end. She said at one point, "I can't believe you're here." ... and all I could say was, "Though tonight seems so cruel and unfair... and though we cannot see God with our eyes... please see Him in this. He knows you. He did not want you to be alone tonight, because He loves you. He has a plan for you."
As we sat looking through pictures of her husband on her phone... I saw lots of pictures that looked like they were from the 1800's. When I asked she said, "oh, it's weird... but I've been really into doing my genealogy lately..." ... it took everything in me not to burst out with joy and a dancing... I didn't want to overwhelm her.. so all I could say was, "That is SO great. Your ancestors are really happy you're finding them."
I then remembered the extra Book of Mormon I had in my car. The last thing I packed... the last english copy on our shelf...and the moment the Spirit said, "DON'T LEAVE UNTIL YOU HAVE ONE!".... funny how hours before all that... I was in my car thinking, "hmph... maybe I was overly optimistic in thinking I'd find someone to give the book to. I haven't met anyone... I've been locked alone in my car this whole week.." When I gave it to her, she said, "no no.. this is yours!" then I said, "actually... it's yours. The Lord told me to packed it for you a few days ago. He really does know you. When the reality really does sink in... when it hurts more than you could have imagined.. when it's more than you can bare... open this." ... and then she burst into tears again.
When her family got there... it was time for me to hand her over to them. It was hard. From being a faceless scream... to a very intimate best friend... I came to love this women deeply. It's been three days... and I still cannot get her off of my mind. She gave me her contact information and I gave her mine. I think we will be eternal friends.
After a startling phone call to my mom, (apparently she thought the worst when she heard her "calm and solid daughter" bawling hysterically on the phone at 3 am) and a bath... I found a letter had been slipped under my door. It was from the manager. She thanked me for the "lasting impression" made on her...and said that I would not be charged for my stay there. ...as bad as the world may seem at times....
I truly believe there is so much more good than evil.
I could only drive a few hours on saturday. I had vastly underestimated the toll of the previous night's events... and had to stop in Quebec. It ended up being one of the highlights of my whole trip! I knew Quebec was french speaking... but I really underestimated HOW french it would all be! All the signs were in french.. EVERYONE spoke french... it was so exciting! Plus... no one ever told me (ok... maybe Anna did...) how beautiful the gospel is in French!!!
Despite not understanding 95% of what I was hearing... being in that sacrament meeting was like dumping my soul into a luxurious bubble bath. It was the spiritual hug and soothing that needed after all that had happened. I had been starting to feel alone in this world of French... trying to make sense and be at peace after the trauma of friday night... driving all week alone... I didn't realize how hard it had been on me... until the sweet sister next to me in sunday school showed me they were reading Joshua 1:9... and I pulled it up on my phone in english.
"Have I not commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord they God is with thee withersoever thou goest"
The poor sister was so concerned when I couldn't control the tears streaming down my face... but I couldn't tell her in french that they were just... from gratitude.. because that scripture was for me. It was a loving reminder that the Lord had sent me out here... He had guided me every step of the way... and no matter how far away I was from family or friends or anything familiar or english... I was not alone. I have continued to feel that... even here in Maine... in the middle of nowhere.
I'm finally here... and it is green, lush, and beautiful.. but far more... isolated... than I have ever experienced before. I am excited for it to stop being cold and rainy so I can run out and soak it all in. I am happy to be here and am excited for whatever is to come. I am so grateful for the sacred and powerful experiences that I have had along the way. I cannot deny His hand in all of it... and I stand all amazed.
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