If this is the wrong location please relocate, thanks.
THE GOLDEN HOUR


It was just another Monday in Las Vegas,
In my office people come and go, phone rings and then there's the heat.
The morning flies by, nearing ten it starts.
I feel light headed as I take a drag off my cigarette.
Looking out over the second floor balcony I wonder why I'm feeling this way.
The clock has started ticking and unbeknownst to me the golden hour had begun.


Back at my cubicle I take calls and deal with the problems of the day.
The minutes tick by; the light headiness increases, developing into a headache.
My stomach starts to burn with acid.
I walk up and down two flights of stairs attending short meetings on other floors.
The light-headedness continues I stop by another department that has a nurse on duty.
He checks my vitals and tells me to see a doctor soon.
Is there cause for alarm? His voice is matter of fact.
He has missed the ticking....

Back at my cube, I sit down, my head is aching and my stomach is burning.
I call a friend in another office and ask him to give me a lift to my doctor's.
I get up and walk down the two flights of stairs.
Further into the parking lot I walk, the golden hour has come and gone.
I find his car parked in the shade of a large oak.
Standing there I know now something is wrong, very wrong.
He finally arrives and starts to unlock the car.
"Do you have your cell phone"? I ask.
"Sure"...."Then call 911 we aren't getting out of this lot"
I slip down and lean up against a tire.

The world revolves slowly around me.
Steve dials the number....
Employees walk by going or coming from lunch.
No one notices, the figure on the ground slumped next to the tire.
Steve comes around the car " There's on their way"
I look up; my face is white, loosing all natural color.
I want to talk but my energy is limited, even a breath takes strength.
In the distance the welcome sounds of sirens.
I slump further on the ground.
The sirens come and past by lost in the directions given by others.

Staying awake takes strength that my body doesn't possess.
I'm afraid, not knowing for sure what is going on.
Only knowing that my body that has taken me through
So many adventures in 42 years, is failing me.
The sirens return and finally stop feet away.

The paramedics come, checking vitals and applying needed oxygen.
As these people work around you it's coomforting and scary all at the same time.
With the bit of strength I have, I tell Steve to let my girlfriend know what's happening.
With sirens comes crowd, people walking by earlier now notice every move.
They lift me on to a stretcher and load me into the ambulance.
The questions begin; I speak slowly conserving each bit of energy.
The doors close and the vehicle moves, I'm more afraid than ever before.
Downtown traffic is heavy and the amnulance sways between cars and buses.
The paramedic jabs a needle into my arm. Starting another IV.
Then it stop,

I wake up in the ambulance, " Welcome back" says the paramedic as I opens my eyes.
"Don't talk" just lie still, He smiles and the fear leaves for a moment only to return.
I try to speak but he silences me with a finger.
The other medic returns to his driving duties.
The siren starts up and the vehicle moves.
As the vehicle picks up speed, I tell him I'm afraid.
Nothing in my life has trained me for this moment of utter fear.
For one who has lived through a shooting, a stabbing, car accidnets and falls, I'm terrified of this unknown.
And embarrassed in admitting this fear.
He holds my hand and gives me a pat, reassuring me that all will be okay.
Reaching the hospital, the rear doors open and I'm moved indoors.
Everyone seems to know what's wrong with me except myself.
Finally as the second hour passes, a young doctor with my girlfriend in tow arrives.
He explains in short teerms that I am having a heart attack, caused by two different blockages of my arteries.
Since surviving surgery is the key, he explains in laymen terms that he wants to try a technique.
Called Angio plasti, if that fails, then open-heart surgery will be performed.
Speed is now the issue, so make a choice and we have to go.
The chances are 90% with Angio plasti, 40% with open-heart surgery.
I smile for the first time and tell him let's go with the first choice.
He smiles back, pats my arm and tells a nurse to move me stat.
A second nurse comes in and starts asking questions in a rapid style manner.
From beneficiary, insurance and do I want to be brought back if my heart stops.
I answer no to the latter, as they wheel me down the hall, with my girlfriend in tears, beside me,
I grip her hand, speak of love and that I'll be back in a little while.

The doors close behind me, what clothes they haven't removed are finally taken off me.
A nurse shaves my groin and another calmly tells me what they are doing.
with the pressure of her touch, holding my hand like a child, the fear slowly
Fades away.
I'm finally calm, feeling the razor and then nothing.....