Time Lapse- July 3rd-Chris Ritchey
Another month has gone- and another 3rd of the month comes round-I know the weeks and months keep passing whilst I am standing still. If I choose to look, I can see through the veil of grief the lines etched upon your father’s face as they become deeper, the slowing of your Nana’s walk and the way her frail little body is bending more and more- her own struggle and pain written there – a countenance of sorrow. Misty no longer the puppy – Gavin who is now a little boy and Braedyn who arrived on the planet months after your death.
Yes I know time has moved on- people have moved on-
you are now just a memory fading in the hearts and minds of most- even those that professed love of you- Do you sometimes creep into their thoughts or have you become
Oh! you remember him what was his name again? Yeah Chris- Chris Ritchey- that was it -
Medical records deemed so important now archived …..unless….. they mistake your death. A phone call……
” Can I speak to Christopher Ritchey please?”
My heart constricts and time stops – I bite my lips as tears stream from eyes in that second’s pause- I choke out the words
” This is his mother – can I help you ?”
IS his mother – not WAS - try not to scream- try to hold onto the present – close your eyes so the world that is whirling about is blocked .
“Oh! Yes — this is the Cleveland Clinic can you remind Christopher he has a PET scan scheduled for tomorrow morning at 9:00 am.”
Tears now awash, flooding from my eyes , their path following the fingers of my hand as it grips the phone against my cheek , the taste of warmth and salt find the corner of my mouth. tears or blood from the biting of my lip- it makes no matter , breathe , the world is out of sync once more as I fight to bring the words up from the depths of my grief.
” Chris died” -
“Excuse me- I am sorry what did you say?”
The words strangle – they will not form, choking , forced from that place of dark reality- an intake of breath- a sharp cold pain – eyes squeezed shut – the words escaping from their imprisonment……
My son Chris, is dead”
Silence – confused – mumbling- from the “scheduling person”
I don’t understand – I am so sorry – there is obviously a mistake- sorry again – is this Chis’s full name- is this his information( which went into detail)- his Dr. ? Dr Pohlman-“
Yes! thoughts spinning as I see once again the man, from the Cleveland Clinic- Dr.Pohlman in his crisp starched white coat, beautifully talored slacks, white framed glasses and a small diamond stud catching the flourescent light of his examination room, he of the ice cold hands- he is before me once more- with his charts – every word reaching- pulling me back to the past – the memory of those days of death. The confused voice on the other end of the phone breaks through to the present
Er.. I am so sorry for your loss – I am not sure what happened Sorry I am sorry………
and she hung up
She- presumably went on with the rest of her day scheduling the tests or whatever calls she had to make – unaware she was the unwitting conductor opening once again the portal to a time past filled with anguish and pain..
I was once again in my living nightmare – unable to stop the tears and the missing of you – seeing you hooked up to machines and the “team” Drs. who now smile at me from the television screen selling their miracles——- yes another month and once again time stops with just a phone call…………..
and another night begins and another day — waiting for release ……. as the world rushes on ………. and it is so damned hard !
Entry filed under: Chris Ritchey, death, Doctors/Physicians, grief, hell is other people, medical, Mothers, opinion. Tags: Angela ritchey DO, Christopher D. Ritchey, christopher ritchey lorain, Cleveland Clinic, death, grief, Lombardi-Lorain, mothers and sons, obscenity of cancer.