A change of plans

A CHANGE OF PLANS

"You just have to envision it, John," Mark told me. He was a buddy of
mine but we also worked together at the plant. We'd just started our
morning shift and he was telling me about a show he had watched the
night before called, "Making your dreams come true."
He was always finding these "positive thinking" specials and was more
than happy to share them with me the following morning.
"You just think about what you want and picture it in your mind," He
told me. "You just envision it and it will be yours."
I really didn't feel like fueling the fire so I changed the
subject.
"Gee, I'm sorry that I missed that one Mark. I watched the Twins game
instead. Their new pitcher was really in a zone. He had a no-hitter
goin' till the seventh. He's got a helluva season in front of him." I
said.
"Yea, I caught some of that game too. It was nice to see 'em win one.
Hey, that reminds me, why don't ya come over after work and watch
today's game at my house. The wife is havin' some friends over upstairs
so it'll give me an excuse to hide in the basement."
"Glad to know I'm good for somethin'. I'll just call Ann and tell her
not to expect me." I said.
Ann and I had been married, going on five years now. She would be cool
with me watching the game with Mark as long as the yard didn't need
mowing.
"Great, who knows, maybe they'll win two in a row. Stranger things
have happened.
I better get my machine goin' or Chester will be on my ass again. Catch
ya later!" He said.
"You bet, see ya later, Mark".
Mark walked toward his machine and was almost there when he stopped,
checked his watch, fished some change out of his back pocket, and
headed off to the lunchroom. The lure of a flavored cup of coffee was
too much to pass up. Even if it meant dealing with the wrath of
Chester.
Chester was the team leader of our department. He could be a real jerk
if you caught him in a bad mood.
I walked back to my machine and cranked up the air pressure. I ran an
old automatic insertion machine that stuffed components into a circuit
board. If all went well, I could just set it up and hit a button. More
often than not, there was a jam that would have to be cleared or a last
minute change of orders, requiring a new set up which could be very
time consuming. It had run efficiently yesterday so I didn't expect any
troubles. I'd just sit there and watch the parts go in. It would give
me time to think.
Think about last nights game. The game on today after work. The show
Mark had watched. Where did he find these programs? Must do a lot of
channel surfing.
What kind of a sucker would believe that all you had to do was
concentrate on something to get it? Before I blew it off though, my
boredom got the best of me and I tried to think of something I could
envision.
'Let me think, I guess ten thousand dollars would be a nice start.' I
thought. I didn't want to seem too greedy so I started small. I said it
over and over in my mind.
'Ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand
dollars.'
I pictured the money. I concentrated on the numbers. I saw the bank
account statement that had the amount printed in fresh ink on the small
piece of paper chirping its way out of the A.T.M.
Just then my machine jammed and an error light went off on my display
read out.
So much for dreaming and back to reality. I resigned myself to that
fact that there is only one way to put money into the bank account and
that was to work for it. It's always fun to dream though. I think
that's why people play the lotto. They know their chance of winning is
one in ten million but they keep buying tickets hoping they'll be the
next hayseed grinning into the news cameras explaining how they'll
spend the money. Maybe even say that they have no intention of quitting
their jobs. That is, at least until their boss tells them to pick up
the pace. Right on cue, I looked up and saw Chester heading my
way.
"What's wrong with the machine, John boy?" He asked.
I hated it when people called me that. I'd never let them in on it
though. It would only ensure that they'd call me that every time
instead of once in a while.
"Just a part jam, Chester. I just gotta pull the left transfer station
and clear it. She'll be runnin' in no time." I said.
"Let's hope so, I told the final assembly line they could have this
one today. Do you need any help with the machine? Let me get my tools,
it'll just take a?."
"No! That's all right, Chester!" I interrupted. "By the time you got
your tools, I'd almost have it done. Thanks anyway though."
I quickly went to work on the machine to avoid giving Chester a chance
to insist. He loved helping with the machines. The only problem was, he
did more harm than good.
Most of the operators were pretty particular about who worked on their
machines anyway. There were arguments all the time when we had a night
shift. Everybody had their own way of setting up and doing things. It
was a matter of personal preference.
Chester walked away and I decided that Marks philosophy before
starting any job was a good one. Always have a hot cup of coffee before
tackling any task. I wouldn't have to wander off to the lunchroom
though. I kept a thermos hidden. It was against policy but I figured I
was saving the company money by not having to take the long walk to the
lunchroom. And I was saving myself money by not having to spend sixty
cents for a bad cup of coffee out of the vending machine.
The rest of the day was pretty dull as I got the order to the final
assembly line with plenty of time to spare. I called Ann to let her
know about my plans. She was fine with it and told me that she'd leave
a light on in case it got late.
Just when I got out to my car, Mark came running over.
"I almost forgot to tell you!" he told me trying to catch his breath
from his short jog over. "The games off for today after work."
"What? Is it rained out?" I said.
"No, the games still on, but I can't have ya over to watch it. I
talked to the wife and she told me she had to change the plans with her
friends. Her parents wanted to come over for dinner instead. And you
know her Mom; she overrides everyone.
"So, your wife can visit with her Mom and her Dad can watch the game
with us." I said.
"Her Dad doesn't watch baseball or any sports. Kind of an odd duck. My
night is screwed! I'm gonna have to sit there and make small talk until
they decide to leave.
Sometimes, it's after ten. I'm really sorry about this, John."
"That's cool. We'll do it another time." I said.
"Thanks man. Well, you have a good one and I'll see ya tomorrow." Mark
said as he ran back to his car.
"You have a good night too! I yelled.
"Yea, right!" He yelled back.
I drove home searching for music on the radio but found nothing but
commercials.
I rummaged through my box of tapes at a stoplight and pulled out a
cassette. It wasn't labeled but it had to be better than ads for car
lots.
It turned out to be some 'Steppen Wolf' tunes I had thrown together
one day. Good driving music. Once the light turned green, I gave it the
appropriate volume it deserved.
I pulled onto the street where I lived and hit the remote to open the
garage door.
It was always nice to see the small blue rambler that we bought just
before we got married. Nothing said home better than, well, a house
that is home.
I rolled into the garage and hit the remote once again, bringing the
door down behind me. Grabbing my thermos and the section of newspaper
that I hadn't got to at work, I headed into the house.
What I saw when I opened the door scared the hell out of me!
There was Ann lying on the kitchen floor! At first I didn't see her
moving but as I dropped my thermos and paper and knelt down next to
her, she turned her head and groaned.
"Honey, what's wrong? What happened? Did you fall?" I said.
Her face was white as a sheet as she just groaned again.
I grabbed the cordless phone and punched 911.
"911, what is your emergency?" the woman on the other end asked.
"My wife's been hurt! I need an ambulance at 397 W. Cedar Road!" I
yelled.
"What seems to be the problem, sir?"
"I just told you, my wife needs an ambulance! Can you please
send?.."
"What type of injury is it, sir?" the operator interrupted.
"I'm not sure, I found her on the floor when I got home from
work."
"Sir, can you tell me if she's breathing?"
I've seen this on television a million times. They ask you question
after question while precious seconds tick away. I knew they had their
procedures and I could hear the operator turning pages in a handbook. I
just didn't have time for this.
I hung up the phone and opened the door. Running out to the garage, I
opened the passenger door and the garage door and ran back in the house
where I carefully lifted my wife and carried her out to the car.
We were tearing down our street in no time flat. I was lucky I didn't
have an accident passing cars like they were standing still.
I tried to calm myself but now the fear that my wife could die right
next to me, sent me into a state of severe panic.
Laying on the horn as I went through red lights and swerved my way
through the other drivers, I finally pulled into the emergency entrance
of the County hospital.
Running inside, I yelled for help, frantically waving some orderlies
over to the car that helped get Ann onto a gurney and rolled her
through the large automatic doors.
I ran alongside answering questions from a Doctor who had joined us
when we got inside.
"Is she on any medication? Does she have any allergies? Did she have
any symptoms? Who is her regular Doctor?" He was firing them at me
faster than I could answer them.
When I told him that she had been complaining of some stomach trouble
the last few days, he nodded as a flash of recognition showed in his
expression.
We finally reached an operating room where much to my protest; I was
denied entrance. The Doctor told me he believed it was a ruptured
appendix before I was left on my own. It tore me apart to have to
separate myself from Ann but I had to trust them for now.
A nurse pointed me to the waiting area and told me that someone would
talk to me as soon as they knew for sure.
I sat down in one of the worn out chairs and looked through the
pathetic selection of magazines they had laying on the table in front
of me.
Flipping through a copy of 'Golf Digest'that was three months old, I
had no comprehension of what I was looking at. The pages could have all
been blank and I wouldn't have noticed.
After going through all the magazines and drinking the last cup of
coffee out of the pot, the Doctor finally came to see me.
"We had to do an emergency appendectomy." He said.
"Is she all right?" I asked. "How's she doing now?"
"Under the circumstances, she's doing great." He said. "When her
appendix burst, it scattered bacteria throughout her abdominal cavity.
We've got her on antibiotics and she's resting comfortably now. She had
a lot of internal bleeding, and due to the extent of the injury, we had
to make the incision a little longer than usual so we'd like to keep
her for a few more days.
"Can I see her now?" I asked.
"She'll be out for a while. And her rest is very important right now.
The best thing for you to do would be to go home and come back in the
morning. You're very fortunate that you found her when you did. The
sudden inflammation and rupture of her appendix left untreated could've
killed her." He said.
"Thank you Doctor!" I said and shook his hand although I wanted to
give him a bear hug.
When I got home, I was going through all the scenarios in my head of
what could have happened. If Mark hadn't changed our plans, I would've
been watching a ball game at his place after work that could have gone
on for three hours or more. I wouldn't have found Ann until I got home
and by then it could have been too late.
I realized in all the commotion that I hadn't checked the mail so I
walked down to the box at the end of the driveway to collect it. I
pulled out the usual assortment of junk and bills and spotted an
envelope with my company logo on it.
'I hope this isn't a pink slip. I've had a bad enough day.' I
thought.
Tearing it open as I walked up the driveway, I recognized it as an
insurance policy.
My employer had offered us free death and dismemberment insurance a
month ago and according to the form, it was now in effect.
I got back into the house and dumped the rest of the mail on the table
and continued going through the pages of information regarding the
policy.
When I got to the last page it stated: 'The amount provided for the
loss of a spouse is listed in the 'schedule of losses' and will be paid
to you as determined under Beneficiary provision.'
I looked over to the 'schedule of losses' and found that death of a
spouse paid,
"Ten Thousand dollars".