The parking lot was nearly full at this time of morning so it took a good five minutes to secure a space. I did this and then meandered toward the front sliding doors, through the lobby, down the gray wall-to-wall carpeted hallway, and past the gift shop to one of the two stainless steel elevators. I remember looking at the watch that Lois had given me on my last birthday, so that I would not strain my neck by looking at the clock when taking her pulse. It read 9:20 A.M. Stepping in I pushed the number three button. There was a game I played in my head in front of these dark wood paneled, double door elevators in which I'd try to guess which one would open first and I was always wrong. Reaching the third floor, having guessed wrong again, the door opened and with a quick right turn I started walking toward the patient rooms and nurses' station. About twenty feet ahead of me several hospital personnel were moving in, out, and around a doorway. An elderly security guard with thick, black-rimmed glasses stood across the hallway against the navajo white walls. Heading to the room in which I had left Lois the previous night, I didn't think much of all the fuss. I came upon the guard, said "good mornin'" and looked to my left at all the commotion.

     "Oh shit!" I yelled, "That's Lois!". . .