Hey, You're Not McDreamy!

And other uncomfortable revelations

As I stood there in the hallway of the hospital, listening to what her parents knew “so far” about her condition, I began to feel strange. The feeling built and built until the explanation wrapped up and I blurted, “Everything I know about brain tumors is from Grey’s Anatomy!” Thankfully, the group was ready for a laugh, for a tension breaker. And that’s my superpower, I guess.

I was coming to the end of my second week of a 3-week substitute job for my friend Janice, the music teacher, at what would one day become my permanent school. I was trying to make a good impression, so that they would realize they really wanted me around. When I checked my phone at lunch, I saw that not only had my mom been trying to call me, but also a friend from high school. The latter had left me a voicemail, and I can’t imagine what my face must have done while I listened to the frantic, panicked, garbled message that contained words phrases such as, “Jess,” “collapsed at work,” “sending to the Cities,” and worst of all, “brain tumor.” I called my mom. It turned out that she had also talked to the high school friend, and had been attempting to get to me before the friend had. My mom knew I was at work, and didn’t want me to end up needing to arrange my face in front of children as I was told that my best friend probably had a brain tumor.

I walked to the office on prep to talk to the school secretary. I tried to keep from breaking down as I explained that, yes, they needed to get a sub for the sub. I knew I was going to be driving directly down to Minneapolis after the bell rang, and that I would not be back to teach on Friday. I found out later that this flakiness most likely contributed to my not being hired for a while, but I didn’t feel I had a choice. I think it is probably time for workplaces to get up to speed with chosen families. I am lucky enough to have a few friends for whom I will absolutely stop the world, in the same way as I would for my mom, dad, and brother. Jess was one of them.

At that point in our lives, we were not in the best position for me to be giving up days of work. We had been living in Grand Rapids for 9 months and I was still unemployed. Though I had been subbing pretty steadily during the school year, I wasn’t bringing any money in during the summer and we were scraping by, paycheck to paycheck. In fact, on my way down to the Cities that day, I only filled my gas tank halfway because payday for Dan wasn’t until Friday. While I was stopped at the gas station I got a call from Dan that he was trying to get dinner for himself and the kids, and the bank card didn’t work because we were overdrawn. Thank goodness I had places to stay in the metro, or I wouldn’t have been able to afford to be down there.

It turned out that we wouldn’t know much until the next day when Jess went in for a biopsy, so we all agreed to meet back in the morning. We were able to visit with her briefly before we left, and snap the photo below. Maira — Jess’s Bestie bestie — and I walked down to the parking garage together. Maira astutely connected my Grey’s Anatomy blurt with what we were all feeling: Jess was all of our “person”s. She was the owner of a buttload of bridesmaid dresses because she was who we all thought of when we gathered our Most Important People together. This revelation rocked me more than a little bit, and as Maira and I said our goodbyes (we thought) I shoved away the thought. I wasn’t ready.

I immediately had a distraction — a big one. I got to my car, turned my key in the ignition, and heard a click. Thank goodness Maira had parked above me in the ramp, as I was able to flag her down to help. She called a mechanic friend, Trevor, (another Grand Rapids expat!) who listened to the click over the phone. He thought that the battery wasn’t quite dead, and asked if we had anything heavy with which to hit the connections. Per Maira:

You opened up the back of the Ford Escape and rummaged around while I asked Trevor clarifying questions to determine just how heavy of an object would be needed. Midway through a question, you reveal a heavy duty pipe wrench, and say, proudly, "Will this do?" I never did ask WHY there was a pipe wrench in the back of your car.

Trevor gave us the go-ahead to bang away on the connectors, and that was all we needed. Apparently, hitting something with a wrench was exactly the catharsis we needed in the moment, because we were doubled over laughing — bellies aching and tears streaming and unable to talk. Even better, it worked! It got me to my place of rest that night. The next day, Trevor and Maira’s husband, Brian, were kind enough to replace my battery when we were back in the hospital ramp. Maira again:

It was a moment of levity during a very long two days and it still makes me giggle and smile. And man did Jess enjoy hearing that story...you know how it goes... "This one time, we Macgyvered the Escape in the parking garage."

The next morning, we all convened in a waiting room. We quite took over the space, between Jess’s parents, brothers, nieces and nephews, as well as we: The Friends. Believe me, I realize how unusual it is that a group of high school girlfriends are still close after all of these decades, but that’s Jess. She kept us connected. In fact, by the afternoon, we had gathered even more of us — men and women who all knew each other so well 20 years ago, brought together to support the best of us. It was an oddly beautiful couple of hours. (Apparently my mother showed up as well — she had a college gathering that weekend, and came to visit and offer support. That bit had fallen right out of my head, so it is a good thing she is my editor!)

Feeling a little lost, but not wanting to be around people anymore for the moment, I retreated to my dad’s apartment with a burger and some wine, for a viewing of Steel Magnolias. Say what you will, but I needed catharsis — a different version of beating my battery connections into submission with a pipe wrench.

The Friends met for lunch the next day. It was a goodbye lunch, and it had a little bit of an air of we-love-each-other-but-maybe-we-are-done-hanging-out-for-a-bit, and I also think we were all in our own heads about what would be coming next. Jess’s life was about to change drastically, and we were all wondering how we could help and how long… well, you can imagine. I hugged them all and headed home, where my family was waiting for me with a gentle homecoming.

As it turned out, the back window wiper of my Escape was malfunctioning, and constantly drawing battery power even though it wasn’t working. After paying for a completely new battery, and having it die once I was home, a mechanic disconnected the wiper motor and I was good to go. (I knew you would be wondering. You’re welcome.)

Thanks for reading.

Love, Susie