May 29, 2014 Memory Lane

Journal Entry:  Yesterday we decided to take Krispy Kreme Donuts around to all the response units in honor of Gracie's birthday.  Jeremy had been wanting to do something for them since we came home from the hospital a year ago and Gracie's birthday seemed fitting.  We picked up 12 dozen donuts and deliered 2 dozen to each stop.  We went to LifeFlight, Ogden City Fire, Weber County Fire, Weber County Sheriff, 911 Dispatch and finally Primary Children's PICU.  I was holding strong until the drive to Primary.  It took me back to riding in the Sheriff's truck down the freeway.  I had wondered why he didn't go faster but didn't wan to be rude.  I considered he was being safe.  Mom was at Primary and would be with Gracie when she arrived.  After hearing they wouldn't let her be with Gracie I don't remember if speed was a concern still fro me.  I wanted to get there but didn't know that my arrival in the next 10 minutes or 30 minutes would matter.  The Sheriff continued up past Primary and ended up at University of Utah Hospital.  I remember calling Mom to verify how to get there.  I remained very calm and controlled even though I was screaming, "JUST GET ME THERE" on the inside.  Mom met us in the ER and took us up a back elevator to the PICU.  Once there the timid, young, social worker met us.  She pretended to be an expert...not a day over 22 yet an expert.  This was annoying.  I remember Mom and Aunt Emily talking about the social worker taking them into "a room" when Grandma had her stroke.  Emily became hysterical and "drinking water actually does calm you down" I remember her saying.  Mom just said, "I knew what that room meant." As I thought of the parallels in the situation "Surely, this room doesn't mean THAT?" Besides, they were wrong about grandma, they are wrong about Gracie.  Just let me see her and it will be fine.  Finally after 40 minutes I saw her and I knew she was gone.

My chest completely tightened as we got closer to the hospital.  Oddly enough, Jeremy made the same mistake in direction as the sheriff.  We were, so far, retracing our steps exactly except this time Mom was going to meet us at the North Entrance.  The North Entrance is undergoing a remodel but I recognized the stairs I had come down a year ago and found Joan Strang nervously waiting outside...calling someone in an attempt to get past the security and up to PICU.  I had to inform her Gracie was gone and we were just on our way home.  She was so sad, I was so happy to see her.  I thought it was just a bad dream and if I just left this place and went home it would all be ok.

We went to the security guard and he printed us visitor passes for the PICU by looking up our old information in the system.  Same picture, the one from my drivers license.  I didn't like my hair in that picture.  Gracie was with me when I renewed my license the January before she died.  I was pregnant I guess but for some reason I had always thought I had both little girls with me at the DMV.  I'm just now realizing it was just me and Gracie.  We could've brought our old tags...they were yellow too.  They would've had different dates though but who would've noticed? Up we went in the elevator.  I recognized everything right down to the social worker standing in the hall outside the waiting room, patient sleeping rooms where I never actually slept but had the most meaningful conversations and prayers of my life.  Where I changed, clothed and fed my then 4 week old baby. I didn't walk into the waiting room or even towards it.  We headed straight into the PICU.  We gave the donuts to the front desk ladies.  They remembered me.  I saw the pumping room I used several times once I figured out the accessories.  I didn't go past the front desk but was thinking of where I went from here to get to Gracie.  Left, then right (where I would find a cart of towels and wash cloths) then left, and the last room on the left would've been Gracie.  Apparently the most critical go there.  That part, the part past the desk, I could not face.  We turned to leave and I broke down.  She's not here.  She's not there.  This all really happened.  I wasn't playing the role of the best supporting actress.  This was real life and we have not been living happily ever after for the past year.  Gracie is never coming back.  They couldn't fix this.  I can't fix this.  We went back down the elevator past the stairs I came down last April.  Why did I take the stairs and not the elevator?  Who would know the answer to that question?  This time my car was not brought curbside by a caring friend.  I did not open the back to find Gracie's bike still in there from her ride to Pre-school 2 days before.  Instead, I walked through the parking garage to my car, opened the back, and changed Vi.