The last heart beat
I woke up today thinking it was just another regular day. As usual I snoozed 8 minutes before I used all of my power to jump out of bed. As usual I cooked myself an omelette for breakfast. Then I went down to get dressed and put some make up on. This whole morning ritual is something that is calculated to the last second, pretty much. It takes me about 10 minutes to cook breakfast, 15 to eat it, and 15 to get my clothes on and freshen up my face. There’s no time to go slow. But today I even washed my hair, while cooking. I’m effective.
While I was putting on make up with 5 minutes to go, my Mom yelled from upstairs ”There’s a huge ambulance on the other side of the road, if you don’t want to rush out in the middle of it.”
I looked out the window and found an ambulance next to my workmate’s house. We’re neighbours, and her 65 year old husband used to work at our work too, and now he comes there and have lunch everyday.
My mind started rushing, ”Is he having a heart attack? (He’s had a couple before) Is he alive? Poor wife! Or is she the one who had the heart attack?”
And then it rushed a bit further, ”No, wait, she’s already at work, how did he manage to call the ambulance? Does she know? Will I be the one who has to inform her about it?”
And then I started feeling sorry for my work mate. She’s a lovely person, so kind to everyone.
But then I saw the door opening and they carried out her husband on a stretcher, and he lifted his head, so he was alive. What a relief!
I talked to their daughter in law, who by the way is our boss, and it seemed like he hadn’t had a heart attack after all, but he fell to the floor early in the morning, while his wife was still at home, luckily. But it was some sort of heart problem. Now they’re back home. I feel so relieved!
The question is how many heart attacks a man can survive?
What a chocking day, I’m glad it ended nicely.
