I went to work on the bus instead of driving in. The call came about 9am; he’s had an accident and I had to come to the hospital. I didn’t think the words “You should bring someone with you” were unusual. Because I didn’t have my car, my friend and co-worker took me to the hospital, 45 minutes away. Our words in the car were positive ones; he’ll be OK, it’ll be all right. I did pretty well, wanting to get there as quickly as I could, trying to breathe and keep the fear away. When we arrived at the hospital we were directed to a room and told the doctor would like to speak to me. He said my husband had a massive heart attack, he was alone and it was several hours before the ambulance got to him; fear and hope. He continued; he couldn’t be resuscitated, he was gone; immediate grief, so intense I couldn’t breathe or speak. I don’t know how long it took me to go and see him but when I did, I grabbed the front of his shirt and squeeze so tight; so angry; so scared. No thoughts, just unbearable grief.