I was confused as to what was going on. I was focused on the traffic, as I was planning on turning and parking to wait for him. I was looking at him, but not LOOKING at him. I asked him if he had gotten into an accident with this other car, as I couldn't figure out why they were all three standing in the median. As I crossed into the Burger King parking lot, he began to explain.
There was a no hint of panic in his voice, but a seriousness that got my attention quickly. He calmly said "I need you to park the blazer. I need you to come over here to the RV and get all our valuable items (laptop, firearm, camera, etc...). I need you to have the RV secured and towed out of the roadway. I have some burns and I probably need to go to the hospital. I need you to handle this, OK?"
My head was fuzzy. Burns? What? How? What did he mean? I didn't understand what was going on, but I knew it was serious. I have the type of husband who doesn't go to the hospital. He is Superman. He is. He would never say he needed to go to the hospital unless it was serious.
I pulled across several parking spots with my vehicle/boat combo and happened to park right next to a Sheriff's Citizen Patrol who was about to leave. I ran to his car and said that there had been a fire of some sort, and my husband needed medical attention. Once I saw him grab his radio, I ran across the street to the median. I found Mike, who seemed quite calm. However, the look on his face gave way to the fact that he was in severe pain.
As I began to look him over, reality sunk in. The skin on his upper right arm had obviously been burned and was hanging loosely. His legs, below the knees were much worse, they were red and white and skin was missing in many places. He had his right hand turned so that I couldn't see the palm. I asked to see it and he said he didn't want me to.
I entered the RV and grabbed the items he had asked me to gather. He stood at the doorway, calmly instructing me on where to look, what to get. Because of his "togetherness", I had no idea he was on the verge of passing out, he was most likely about to go into shock. He once again, repeated what he needed me to do. Secure our valuables, take care of having the RV towed, whatever it took to get it out of the roadway. As I gathered the items, I quickly glanced around. I noticed a large black area, a fire extinguisher, and some charred stuff in the sink. Fire. There had been a fire and he had been burned. That's all I could make out as my head spun.
He sat down on the edge of the sidewalk, and in just moments we were surrounded by help. Firetruck, amublance, and several deputy vehicles.
The rescue unit placed my husband on a stretcher and began to prepare him for a trip to the E.R. I stood in the median with a handful of officers who were talking about what we'd do next, how to have the vehicle towed, etc... when somehow I thought to open my mouth and say the one thing that would prove to be the RIGHT thing at that time.
"My husband is a Deputy Sheriff"...
"The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime;
And His song will be with me in the night,
A prayer to the God of my life."