I stood there, staring. Staring at the cold desperation that was ahead of me. The cold, sanitized, hallway felt like it was enclosing on me every second that went by, getting closer and closer into my personal space. No room to breathe. This could be it, this could be the end, but what am I doing? Standing here like a 5ft statue, watching time pass me by. I’ve been waiting here since 4’ o clock in the morning, haven’t spoken, seen, even looked at anyone. Just standing here, in this crooked, ramped hallway. People passing me by on wheel chairs and stretchers. Nicole move, go sit down, stop staring. I couldn’t. Couldn’t move, speak, or barely breathe. What’s going to happen? I don’t know.
One month ago, not only my best friend but also my dad was diagnosed with an enlarged aorta. It hit my family and I like a bus. One day, on a cold November day I came home to my Mom, Sister, and Dad sitting quietly in the living room. This was strange enough because my family and I are rarely in the same room together. My mom was sitting in the old, rackety, rocking chair in the corner by the fireplace. Her hand was on her head and the look of devastation was on her face. My sister Dannielle lying on the pale, tan couch that lies against the big open windows into the great outdoors, her head buried in a pillow. My dad on the other hand, my dad was sitting in his big, burgundy, lazy boy chair in front of the bursting, roaring fire. He always enjoyed using our fire place, he loved a good challenge of building the ultimate fire, with colored flames mixed with red, orange, and blue. So warm you can feel the heat when you walk through the front door. I slowly walked into the living room trying to stay as calm as possible, thinking I did something wrong, or my grades were in the toilet, but no. That wasn’t the case.
“Go sit down with your sister,” my mom said with a chocked up voice.
“Am I in trouble? I don’t understand why Dannielle has to be here.”
“Nicole, go sit with your sister we need to discuss something as a family.”
My dad begins to sit up from his big lazy boy. Rests his forearms on his knees and puts his face in his arms. He took a deep breath.
“I have received some bad news earlier this morning. Remember I have had those chest pains for a while now?  I shook my head as a nervous sting of adrenalin rushed through my body, like I knew what he was about to say. “I went to the doctor’s earlier this morning to get it checked out.  They ran some tests and took some blood.”
He paused. Paused for a solid two or three minutes. My mom tearing up. My sister abruptly leaving the room. Before I even knew what was going on, I started to cry.
“What is wrong with you Dad? Spit it out,” I quietly spoke as my voice cracked.
“The doctors diagnosed me with an enlarged Aorta. If I don’t get it surgically fixed soon I might go.”
“Go? GO? WHAT DO YOU MEAN GO?” My emotions were over the level of distressed. I could not or want to process the information just thrown at me.
“Nicole, I know it will be hard, it will be for the whole family. I am being submitted in the hospital in about an hour or so, and I will get fixed soon honey, I promise.”
My dad never made any promises, only when he knew he could keep them. One day in the summer when I was six, my mom promised to take me to the zoo to see the giraffes. My mom ended up breaking the promise; I was a devastated little six year old girl. When I ran crying to my dad he told me he would now take me to go see the giraffes at the zoo, and he promised. He said with full confidence he would always keep his promises. Ten years later he hasn’t broken one promise, ever.
So, why did he promise this? He doesn’t really know if he’s going to be okay or not. Now I am standing here in this hallway, rerunning my crazy life for the past two weeks in my head. Thinking about every little detail, when my dad is just past those doors. The doors that separate us, the ones where when you push them, you feel as if they don’t move. The doors that lead you to reality.
I paced for what seemed like hours, distracting myself in every which way. My Grandma came up with the idea of playing cards to help distract me. So, we traveled down to the hospital cafeteria and sat down at a little rounded, white, coffee table. Right as she dealt the cards, I saw my mom out of the corner of my eye rushing over to us. Before she even reached me, I slammed my cards on the table, and I was out of my chair, and down the hall that seemed forever long. I sprinted up the stairs, and cut many corners but stopped. I stopped right before those big, ugly doors. This was it. My dad is in there, but is he really in there? I mean is it him? Is he truly okay? I took the biggest deep breath imaginable and pushed those doors with all my might. I traveled down the Intensive Care hallway to his room, the first one on the right. I slowly took a few steps forward with the biggest knot in my stomach. Tears were pouring out of my eyelids to the point where my vision was blurry. I didn’t know what was ahead of me, except for the fact my dad could be okay, or he couldn’t be okay. He better have not broken his promise, I don’t know what I would do without my best friend, or my dad. I took my last step into his room, breathing heavily, snuffling from all the crying, then time paused. He saw me, I saw him. He tilted his head drastically slow.
“What have I always told you, I never break a promise, nor will I ever.” I gently sat on the side of his awkward rectangular hospital bed making sure I wasn’t bumping the many machines and tubes connected to him. I wrapped my shaking arms around the top of his chest and hugged him; it wasn’t a hard hug, but a gentle, relieving, and everything’s okay kind of hug. A hug I will remember for the rest of my life.
I will never know when the people I love will leave me, I do know it was a devastating journey almost loosing my dad, I can’t even imagine the heart ache I would have if I lost him. Ever since this