Top Down Day Read online

  Top Down Day

  1 family, 3 days, 4 perspectives

  Nicole Overby

  Description

  A simple phone call has Dawn's world turned upside down.

  The most important person in her life is now fighting for his life. As the walls start enclosing around her, she battles between protecting her children and her husband. Emotions are high and patience is running thin.

  Whose opinion matters most in a situation like this?

  What will tomorrow bring?

  This book walks readers through some of the scariest moments in life. It brings to light different emotions and internal conflicts when death is near. The story is a great guide for those finding themselves in traumatic situations and wondering if their feelings are out of line.

  To my hero,

  May this book achieve your goal of becoming an author one day and may your memory live on forever. I strive to make you proud every day of my life.

  My deepest love,

  Colie Olie

  "But oh who needs that sentimental bullshit, anyway” -Cold Chisel

  Prologue

  The ringing is loud; ear-piercing loud. I look around anxiously trying to pinpoint the source of the sound.

  The hands aren’t moving, not even the long one. This clock has to be broken. The talking in the room has gone silent. I can’t even catch the shouting of his vitals anymore.

  My sister isn’t gasping for air in between each tear and I can’t hear my brother trying to console her. What is going on?

  I turn vigorously, searching for my mom, searching for the sound, searching for answers.

  Brandon is all I can see-- he is so close to my face, trying to comfort me, when really I just need him to get the fuck out of my way. Where is my mom? Where is the sound? Where is the rewind button? Everything goes black.

  Welcome to my nightmare.

  Part I

  FRIDAY

  MARCH 22ND

  - ONE -

  |11:52 AM|

  Natalie

  Well, this is a shit show.

  I don’t understand why it is so hard for volunteers to show up on time. This is the fifth open house of the academic year, so it isn’t like this is new for everyone. If you personally selected your volunteer time, I assume you checked your calendar to ensure you can show up for the time you personally selected!!

  I need to keep reminding myself-- only one more event; I can do this.

  I hear the phone in my purse ringing on the table across from me. Shit! I forgot to turn off my phone. I dart over to mute the sound and see it’s a call from my mom. I wish it was a call from one of the late volunteers with a believable story about how their house mysteriously caught on fire, and that is why they’re reasonably 45 minutes late.

  I think this job is turning me into a bitter person.

  One more event; I remind myself, as I mute the call and turn off my phone.

  |SIX HOURS EARLIER|

  Dawn

  The clock reads 6:02 AM. Great--I’m already two minutes behind schedule.

  “I have to leave,” I call out searching for my keys. “I’ll be home around 3 PM.”

  “Sounds good! See you later, Tim Allen!” Corey laughs out as he leans in for a kiss.

  I roll my eyes, grab my coffee, and head towards the door. Google Maps begins to direct me to the Habitat for Humanity build. This is my third year helping Corey’s company with their sponsored house. I’m grateful for his job since it’s allowed me to be a stay-at-home mom for all these years, so occasionally volunteering my time is the least I can do.

  As I sit in the notorious Charlotte traffic, a news update pops up on my phone screen about the North Dakota vs. Duke game. I shoot Corey a playful text, “could the North Dakota game be the one that blows everyone’s bracket?”

  My phone pings quickly with a response, “Tough draw for the Bison.”

  How did I marry a Montana native who has a love for North Dakota sports teams, of all places. My face warms as the smile creeps across my face, my head still shaking back and forth. At least we could meet in the middle with the Denver Broncos.

  We met in Denver at work after mutual friends introduced us nearly thirty years ago. Our three beautiful children were born there, and at times, I wonder if he misses it as much as I sometimes do.

  Kristen

  The ringing of the alarm clock can probably wake up half of the residents in my apartment complex. I’m sure everyone appreciates a six in the morning wake up call from the nursing students needing to head to clinical. It doesn’t help that I always have to be forty-five minutes early to everything.

  As I’m rolling out of bed, Midnight greets me with a meow below. I can rationalize staying in bed five more minutes if it’s dedicated to spending personal time with him. Plus, I’ve decided to go home for the weekend so I deserve this extra time in my own bed with my kitten. Just as I start resting my eyes, I hear a small ping from the dresser.

  I bet it’s Lindsey checking if I’ve gotten out of bed yet. We’ve been roommates for two years now, and we almost know each others’ routine better than we know our own.

  |9:12 AM|

  Thomas

  The airport is full today. Unusually full.

  “What day is it?” I ask as I search for my credit card.

  “Umm, Friday,” the barista answers confusingly.

  “I mean what’s the date today? The 19th maybe?”

  “Oh! It’s March 22nd,” I respond after glancing down at my Apple watch.

  It clicks in my head as I pay for my Starbucks caramel macchiato-- some colleges are still on spring break. March is a busy time for family travel. It adds great entertainment for the weekly business travels.

  While drinking my coffee, I look around at all of the families in the terminal. I really should write down half of the entertainment I witness every week; I would have a full years’ worth of stand-up. The family boarding at the gate next to me catches my attention. I can hear the attendant trying to explain that their group number hasn’t been called yet. I can’t help but shake my head as I continue to sip my drink.

  My comic piece would go something like… “Airports should designate a timeout area for those who try to board with a different group. An area for those who think the rules don’t apply to them, with red flashing lights to intensify the public shame.”

  I catch myself laughing at my own joke.

  Dawn

  My Apple watch starts buzzing while I’m on top of the roof putting on the shingles. I glance down and notice the call’s from Corey. That’s odd. He knew I was going to Habitat for the day and would be tied up with the home repair.

  “I have to take this.” I explain to George, the contractor, as I climb down the ladder, hoping to find a quiet place. The nailing is too loud; I won’t be able to hear a thing he says.

  “Hey, everything okay?” I answer trying to balance the phone on my shoulder.

  Corey’s breathing is slow and heavy.

  “I think… I need you to come home.”

  The hesitation in his voice is obvious.

  “What’s wrong, Corey?” My heart begins to race.

  “I threw up a little bit of blood.”

  My vision begins to fade as I listen to him over the phone.

  “Nothing to stress about…”

  Even with the alarming news, his voice remains calm.

  “but I think you should come take me to the emergency room just in case.”

  His last few words keep ringing in my ears… “just in case.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to regain focus. Searching for my car, I respond, “I’m leaving now. I will see you in 40 minutes. Don’t move.”

  I can feel my mind starting to run a million miles pe
r hour. Blood! He threw up blood! Once in my car, I realize I never told George I’m leaving. I roll down the window and yell, “Family emergency! Have to go!” I watch the confusion grow across his face, but I decide I’ll explain it to him later, once Corey is home and feeling better.

  I look down at the speedometer, reaching 80 miles per hour. What am I doing? I need to calm down! I begin to ease my lead-foot just as I see the car stereo light up with a phone call coming through. It’s Corey again.

  “Dawn, I don’t think I’m going to make it until you get back. I need you to call an ambulance.”

  I can hear his voice getting weaker, my heart beating harder.

  What do I do?! I’m not going to make it. My call will pick up EMTs in the Charlotte area. Think, Dawn. I can’t see the road anymore, all I can envision is Corey at the house, so helpless.

  “Okay, okay. I, um, I need to call the neighbor. So, so dispatch sends EMTs near you, not me. Okay, Corey, I’m going to call Marianne.”

  I’m sure he can hear the worry growing in each word.

  Before I even let him answer, I hang up and call Marianne. The rings go on for an eternity before I get her voicemail. “Fuck!” I scream out as I slam on the brakes just in time to avoid smashing into the car in front of me. I don’t know if I’m more pissed at this unnecessary traffic light in the middle of the busiest road, or knowing I’m wasting precious time trying to get ahold of a fucking neighbor. Jean has to be home. I dial her number as fast as my shaky fingers will allow me. The car horn behind me rings in my ears. “Fuck off!” I yell with an accompanying middle finger. Holy shit, what am I doing?

  I try taking a few deep breaths to calm me down as I listen to the long, unanswered rings.

  “Hey Dawn, how are you!” Jean cheerfully calls out.

  Jean is also a stay-at-home mom. She’s the mom with the Cricut and carpooling kids to hockey games. I remember when that was me. We’d been meaning to catch up recently, but our schedules are polar opposites now that my kids are all on their own. I knew she’d answer. She probably thought it was time to finally catch up.

  “Jean, listen. I need you to call an ambulance for Corey.” My tone probably startles her.

  “What! Is everything okay?!”

  I want to yell back, “Yes, Jean, everything’s fine. Corey’s just testing the response time for dispatchers to make sure we live in a safe neighborhood.”

  Sarcasm will waste time. Anger will waste time. I know this.

  “Jean, listen. Call the ambulance.” I hang up before I can hear another comment that will send me completely over the edge.

  I dial Corey back. “I called Jean. She’s calling an ambulance. Stay on the phone with me. How are you doing?” I sound like a general shouting out orders.

  Don’t sound panicked; you have to stay calm for him. Everything is going to be fine; it always is. Breathe, Dawn, breathe. I almost miss Corey’s response because my inner pep talk is so loud.

  “I’ll be okay. How’s the house, handyman?”

  I swear I can see the smile creeping over his face as he laughs at his own question. Why is he always so calm? Why can’t I be more like him? I always overreact and let my mind race to the worst imaginable situation.

  A deep cough follows his laugh, but it’s distant. He’s covering the speaker with his hand. He’s trying to mask the noise. He doesn’t want me to hear, so I shake my head trying to erase the sound and keep the conversation going. Keep him focused.

  “Not bad. Just working on my skills so I can make improvements to our home.”

  “Of course you are.” A shorter, hesitant chuckle follows his words. He’s being careful.

  I hear the ambulance sirens and I know the EMTs have finally arrived. I listen while the EMTs ask Corey question after question, trying to assess the situation. Corey explains how he’s such a needy husband, making me leave my event early. I don’t fight the smile appearing on my face as I listen to the laughter of strangers. He always makes me sound so important, when in actuality, without him our family would have nothing. Nothing. I hear the EMTs telling Corey he’s being taken to our local hospital for further assessment of the bleeding.

  I hear the strangers going over each move before it happens.

  “Okay, Corey.”

  Noises ruffling, but I can’t make out what it is.

  “We’re going to get you sitting upright.”

  He must be in bed.

  “Bring you onto a stretcher.”

  Or is he laying on the bathroom floor?

  “Bring you out of the garage, into the ambulance.”

  No he had to be in bed. He isn’t that bad.

  “Are you ready?”

  The directions help calm me down as I can envision the play-by-play. But then, suddenly, I don’t feel so calm anymore. No one’s talking; no one’s laughing anymore. I can barely hear anyone. What happened? I check the volume on my phone and cling onto the steering wheel. My knuckles slowly turning white.

  “Corey, Corey, Corey!” I hear the stranger’s voice suddenly call out.

  “What is happening?!” I yell into the phone, praying Corey put me on speaker phone.

  “Corey, come back to us.”

  More noise.

  “Come on, Corey!”

  What the fuck is going on! The lead-foot returns as I rush to meet the ambulance at the hospital.

  A new voice calls out, “Bill, lift his head up!”

  The panic in their voices is piercing.

  “He isn’t responsive-- his blood pressure is dropping!”

  Now I know there are three strangers in my house with my husband. Three strangers I’m depending on.

  “Keep trying!”

  The orders continue.

  “Try this!”

  “Try that!”

  Yet, none of them are telling me what exactly is going on. I try to focus on the road, knowing there is nothing I can do until I get to the hospital. I’m useless until I’m there, right next to him, helping him.

  “There you go! He’s coming back.”

  Thank God.

  I listen to the muffling on the other line, trying to make out a single word.

  “Welcome back Corey. We lost you there for a minute.”

  I hear one of them take a slow, deep breath. Are they as relieved as I am?

  “We’re almost ready to get you to the ambulance; we need you to stay with us. Try focusing on your breathing.”

  I vaguely hear the strangers reading off his vitals and approximately how much blood he’s lost. My ears are ringing, and I keep pressing my finger into them to stop the buzzing. I need to be listening, paying attention to every detail.

  Then, I hear his voice and the noise disappears.

  “Don’t worry honey, I’m not dead yet.” Corey laughs those words so clearly. My shoulders fall, and I feel like I can finally breathe again. He knew I was still listening through the phone. Of course he did, I think as I fall into a reverie. Why does he always seem to make jokes during the worst possible times?

  I daze off to a memory a few months ago when he had to have foot surgery. He’s battled with his feet for several years, but the doctors were hopeful this was going to be the final surgery. The surgery was to realign his ankle to avoid pressure points in his feet. When he filled out his pre-surgery paperwork he put down “Aquaman” as the name he would prefer to be called. I’ll never forget the look on the nurse’s face when he came to get him for surgery. “Are you ready to be taken back for surgery, Aquaman?”

  I can’t help but grin as I think of the memory. We will get through this, it will be okay; it’s always been okay.

  |9:38 AM|

  Kristen

  “Hi. You have reached the cellphone of Dawn Owen. I can’t come to…”

  I hang up the phone. I was calling my mom as soon as I reached the hospital’s parking lot. Clinicals were cancelled today. Dr. Murphy must have known the class was itching to start our weekend. As I reach my car, I decide to give Natalie
a call-- the only phone number I’ve ever memorized. Must be a twin thing.

  “The number you have called has a full voicemail box and cannot accept any messages at this time.”

  I swear she leaves herself voicemails so no one else can. As much as I love her, she definitely pisses me off. Why isn't anyone answering my calls? I decide to give Lindsey a ring.

  “Hey, girl!”

  Finally, someone answers!

  “Hey, have you left for the weekend yet?”

  “Nope. Have you?”

  “Nope! Clinicals were cancelled, and I could use a distractor from the amount of work my professors have assigned.”

  I slide into the driver-side seat and place the keys into the ignition.

  “Haha! I can relate. I’m convinced our professors don’t want us to enjoy our weekends for the rest of the semester. Want to grab coffee at Java?”

  “Yes, please! See you in 20?”

  “Perfect!”

  She’s always such a good roommate.

  |10:00 AM|

  Dawn

  Why does Candy Crush have the loudest music? I guarantee if the app developers did market research they would come to the conclusion that 80- 90% of users play the game in areas where music isn’t appreciated or appropriate.

  I quickly silence the music as I apologize with my eyes to Corey. He doesn’t seem bothered by the sound, but I can tell he’s uncomfortable in the emergency room bed. I was hoping this game would distract me from thinking about how long we’ve been waiting. How did it get this bad? Did he seem sick this morning before I left?

  I stand up and walk over to his bedside.

  “Anything I can do?” I ask, but knowing there is nothing.

  “No, I...”

  Before he can even finish his sentence I watch his face turn pale. Something is wrong, very wrong. In slow motion, I watch the blood spill out of his mouth before it hits me. I look down at my shirt. Clumps of dark blood are splattered across my chest. Before I can manage a word, Corey murmurs, “I’m so sorry” while blood is still dripping from the corners of his mouth.