The Call

By: Jason Marcle

It seems like I have had several of those “calls” over the last few years. Today I become a nervous wreck every time my phone rings.  It will wake me from a deep sleep. It causes my head to go to places I don’t want it to go.

June 23, 2018, me, Amy, Haley and one of our good friends Carey were sitting outside watching a movie titled “Dunkirk” on a projection screen.  Amy was reading about this bad wreck that had happened close to my parents’ house. Nobody knew at that time who or how many were involved.  Online, we kept seeing someone asking my cousin Stacy where her daughter was. There weren’t any answers. I tried calling my parents and there was no answer. At 7:45 pm or so, we heard some helicopters fly over our house. We still had no idea what was going on.  Around 8:30 pm, the house phone rang. That single call has caused me to have PTSD events when the phone rings.

My mother was on the other line and Amy answered the phone. I immediately saw Amy inside crying and screaming. I knew right then Alyssa wasn’t ok. I go in and Amy says to me “there was a bad wreck and Alyssa didn’t make it. Makena is being airlifted to Memphis and we don’t know her condition. “What? How could I process all that? While I’m trying to process all of this, my daughter Haley falls to her knees screaming and crying. This still brings tears to my eyes today. I have never seen the movie Dunkirk, nor will I ever.  If I stumble across the movie while flipping channels, it sends me back to that horrible evening.

Alyssa’s boyfriend was also airlifted to Memphis from the scene. He later passed away in the trauma center.  Makena ended up with a leg injury that they were able to treat and sent her home.  We were so thankful that Makenna survived. This incident also divided the family on my father’s side.  One of the other drivers involved in the accident was married to our other 1^st cousin.  He told us the day after the accident what really happened, then a few days later changed his story when the highway patrol took his statement.  One year after the accident, “He” our 1^st cousin’s husband, sued Stacy and her husband for an injury to his pinky finger and the stress it had caused his family.  4 years later, the state of Tennessee named that stretch of road the “Alex and Alyssa Memorial Highway”. Now those responsible for the accident have to pass those two signs every time they drive on that highway.

The next phone call happened on May 11, 2021.  Around 5:45 pm, I was outside cleaning out our small koi pond when my mom called me on my cell phone.  She stated that she had called an ambulance for my dad and that he was on the floor and could not breathe.  About 2 hours earlier, I had spoken to my mom to check and see how his last chemo treatment went.  You see, he had his last chemo treatment on this day as well. Everything seemed good at that point. He drove himself home from the treatment. He had called his cousin and told him how he was feeling good and how happy he was that chemo was over.  This phone call I received was close to two hours after so, how could this be?  I thought she was just scared and excited when she called, I never thought he would be that sick that quick.  As I was gathering my things, I could hear the ambulance racing through town with my dad. He arrived at the hospital with a blood oxygen level of 55%.

During this time, we had been getting things ready for our daughter’s high school graduation. She was graduated 3 days after receiving this phone call. As you can imagine, we were already on the nervous side being this was our only child.  I took my mother daily to and from the hospital to visit my father. I’m not going to go into all the details that played out during the week, but I will say that my father became very sick very fast.  He ended up on dialysis, which means he was hooked up to a piece of medical equipment that I was responsible for. 

I work for the company that provides dialysis at our local hospital. The phone call and being on one of my machines causes me some PTSD to this day. On May 18^th, my father died. I was in shock as I always believed that he would recover and come home. That was the first time he had ever been admitted into the hospital for being sick. I still have flashbacks often of all the events that took place during those seven days.

Saturday August 14^th, 2021, My best friend called me to tell me that he had just tested positive for covid and told me how bad he felt.  He stated, “everything that can hurt is hurting.”  I felt so bad for him.  He was running a 102.7 degree fever at the time he called me.  Exactly one week later, I got a call that Terry had been admitted into the hospital and placed on bipap just like my father was.  This scared me. Keep in mind that just 4 months earlier, I had lost my father. On Friday August 27^th, I got a call from Terry’s daughter explaining to me that Terry was going to be airlifted to Memphis.  I went to the hospital and watched as the chopper flew Terry away.  On September 14^th, I got “the call” that Terry didn’t make it. I was absolutely devastated. Honestly, I still am. He was someone that just couldn’t be replaced. I just can’t say enough good things about him.

On May 1^st, 2022, 8 months after Terry’s passing, my mom called with the news that she had tested positive for covid. This scared me to no end as I had just lost my father and my best friends. My mom was really sick. She was eventually airlifted to Jackson, Tn and had to be put on bipap.  She ended up with 3 chest tubes to drain fluid from her lungs. I got “the call” on May 24^th at 2:45 in the morning.  “Jason, this is Nurse Kayla from Jackson Madison County General Hospital. We need your permission to take your mother back downstairs so we can place another chest tube as her lung has collapsed again. Her vitals aren’t looking as good as they were when you left. We need you to decide right now if something were to happen during the procedure, would you want us to resuscitate her and possibly place her on the ventilator?”  That is a lot of information to receive at 2:45 in the morning and some very hard questions to answer. At 3am, the hospital called back and said that the tube had been placed but her vitals were dropping, and they were putting her on something to help raise her blood pressure. They informed me that I needed to come down there ASAP as things weren’t looking good.  Me and Amy got in the truck and started driving. At 3:15 am, I got “the call” explaining that my mother did not make it.  

I was numb from head to toe. In one year and six days, I had lost my father, my best friend, and my mother. How much can one person take?  I still don’t understand it to this day. But I do know it was part of God’s plan.

The whole purpose of this writing is to bring attention to those with PTSD.  You do not have to serve in the military to get PTSD. Trauma can happen to anyone, anywhere, anytime.  I have episodes often and I can’t help it other than telling my therapist about it. She has really worked wonders on my PTSD, but I still have it.

Something else to bring to your attention is not to take everything for granted. We aren’t guaranteed tomorrow. Our loved ones aren’t either. Make sure you treat everyone as if it is going to be the last time you see them.  We never know when our time is up.

James 4:14 ESV says, “yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” Meditate on that verse for a while. Maybe you have a story you would like to share with us. I hope that this blog is finding those that need help. Those that feel alone. Those that feel like nobody else cares.