The ambulance arrives, finally and puts my Dad on a stretcher, already doing stuff to him that I can’t see.One of them keeps on asking me questions.
911 guy:What happened exactly?
Me: I’m not sure, I came up and he was unconscious
Him:And before that?
Me: He came home drunk and throwing up
Him: Miss, is he an alcoholic?
Me:Yes
Like hell
Him: Do you know how much he’s had to drink, how long he’s been drunk?
Me: No, he was out. It can’t have been longer than 3 or 4 hours though.
He nods, leading me to the ambulance and we climb in.
Him:When he came home what did you do?
Throw that bitchy blonde out
Me: Helped him to the bathroom and bed
Him: Did he sleep?
Me: I wouldn’t let him.That’s how people die.
Did he think I was stupid or something?
Him: How often were you checking on him?
Me: Every five minutes
Finally he seems impressed and starts talking to the doctors as we rush along the road.I suddenly realize Drew is in the ambulance beside me, holding my hand. I don’t ever want to let go.