Mrs. Gallagher Fights for Her Man

A Truth is Stranger Than Fiction Moment

“Michael’s been electrocuted.” I couldn’t utter a reply to this news before my mind conjured up images of my boyfriend lit up like a Christmas tree or some corny cartoon character. You die when you get electrocuted; I knew that much. And now I knew the answer to the question of whether our on-again-off-again relationship would end in marriage.

Still in shock (pun intended), I asked, “Is he…?” Before I could say “dead” Michael’s father replied, “He’s okay. We’re at the hospital. He wanted me to call you.”

Relief flooded through me. He wasn’t dead! And he wanted to see me! Maybe our relationship still had a chance.

As I drove to the hospital, I began to wonder what had happened and to reflect on the past four years. Was this a sign that we should stay together? A sign that life is fragile and that we should appreciate our love and work out our differences? Or was this a sign that Michael needed me? That I should stay and help him through this crisis? Or, was it proof that our life together was doomed? It had been a standing joke amongst family and friends that Michael walked with a black cloud over his head. Accidents seemed to find him. In the past two years, he had been in a serious car accident, hit a boy on a bike, and cut open his hand. Now this? How could this have happened? He did not work with electricity — he made cement blocks.

My questions remained unanswered until I arrived at the hospital. There I found his mom, dad, and sister, Colleen. Of the five older sisters, Colleen (or Sissy as she was best known) was the least intimidating so I was relieved to see her. I also knew she would provide some comic relief to the situation as was her customary style.

After assuring me that Michael was going to be okay, they told me the facts. He had been instructed to descend into a water-filled pit to retrieve a broken pump. Apparently, the pump wasn’t broken or had simply needed to be plugged in, which a careless co-worker did while it was still in Michael’s arms. The result was electricity surging through his body, connecting him to the aluminum ladder which was grounded in three feet of water. His shoulder was yanked from the socket and as they pulled him to safety, his heart rate plummeted dangerously low. He was in shock — literally — and was transported to the nearest hospital.

The first showdown

He had been stabilized and we were all relieved but anxious to see him. We chatted nervously until the nurse said he could have visitors.

“Mr. Gallagher, you can see your son,” and seeing three anxious women jump to their feet, she added, “and one other person can join you.”

His mom, sister, and I all exchanged fighting glances. Each one of us had legitimate desires to see him first. His mom was, after all, his mom. Enough said there. Sissy was his favorite sister who washed his dirty laundry. I was the love of his life.

Despite our ups and downs, everyone knew Michael was in love with me and he had asked his dad to call me. But, no ring, no marriage certificate…I knew before the words were spoken, I would lose this battle.

“I’m his mother,” Dolores firmly said as she addressed me. Then added, in what I thought was just a bit too patronizingly of a tone, “You can see him next, dear.”

I slumped back into my chair feeling put in my place. “Do you think if I had a ring on my finger I would have won?” I asked Sissy.

Putting her finger to her chin, as if truly giving this some thought, she replied, “It would be a tough fight, but I think you could take her.”

We both laughed, knowing that these words weren’t so far from the truth, but never imagining that this scenario would present itself again.

Fast forward three years. Michael and I are married and living in our first home. But that storm cloud seemed to have found him again and this time it broke loose — literally. Again, another alarming phone call, this one from my teenage nephew, “Aunt Mary, you’d better come down here, Michael’s been struck by lightning.”

This time I knew he must be dead. Nobody gets struck by lightning and lives.

Once more I found myself asking the dreaded question, “Is he dead?” only to hear the comforting but strange response, “No, he’s okay.”

I raced the short distance to my sister’s house to find the emergency crew on the scene, getting ready to load him into the ambulance. “You can ride up front,” the paramedic told me. A bit numb, but relieved to see my husband breathing and talking, I climbed aboard. It was a short drive to the nearest emergency room but as we pulled up I saw the life flight helicopter in the parking lot ready for transport. Call me naive, but I remember thinking, “Wow, somebody is really hurt!”

They removed Michael from the ambulance and instead of wheeling him to the door of the emergency room they stopped at the side of the chopper and asked me if I wanted to say a few words to him. In hindsight, I suppose they were giving us a chance to say our last words to each other — in case — but he looked fine and we smiled and I said, “See you there.”

Deja vu

As he was being hauled into the helicopter, his sister, Sissy (she’s always there when you need her!) appeared at my side. We watched, as if we were in a made-for-television movie, as they lifted off, wind spraying us all around, leaves whipping through the parking lot, both of us feeling as if this were all a bit too surreal. I was still shocked that he was being life-flighted. This made me understand how concerned the medical personnel was.

As soon as we gathered our thoughts we jumped into Sissy’s car and drove across town to the hospital that specialized in burn victims. This is standard protocol for lightning strike victims so they can treat any entry and exit wounds. I don’t remember our conversation in the car, but I’m sure it included talk of how strange that he had been struck by lightning and electrocuted, perhaps some light-hearted jokes about how he’ll be sure to keep the spark in our marriage or light up my life forever.

I’m sure we touched on the thought that my father-in-law had just died the previous summer and if anything happened to Michael, Dody (my mother-in-law’s nickname) would be devastated. Hopeful, but worried, we rushed into the emergency room and checked in at the front desk.

The comeback kid

“Your husband is stable, Mrs. Gallagher, but it will be a few minutes before you can see him. Have a seat and we’ll let you know when you can go back.” Can you say deja-vu? After a few minutes, my mother-in-law arrived, visibly shaken. I assured her Michael was okay and that we would be able to see him soon. She calmed and sat down with us, asking for the strange details that had landed her youngest son in the hospital again.

We waited anxiously until the desk nurse called out, “Mrs. Gallagher.” Dody and I stood at attention and leaped toward the front desk. “That’s me!” we both cried out, practically in unison. The nurse, a bit of a smile on her face I am sure, informed us that only one person could see him now, but that each of us would be allowed our turn as soon as they were finished with tests and assured he was doing well. Without missing a beat, I turned to my mother-in-law (I’m sure you see where this is going by now, right?) and I said, “I’m his wife. You can see him next, dear.” I think it took a second for my response to register but she didn’t put up a fight.

It turns out the lightning had struck the tree my husband had been standing next to, sending an incredible surge of electricity down through the ground and up through his legs, throwing him into the air and knocking him unconscious. When he awoke on the ground, he surmised he had been struck by lightning and stumbled to the front door where he collapsed when my nephew opened it. His heart rate had plummeted into the 20’s but he had no entry/exit wounds. A severe concussion was the immediate concern and it would take over 10 years to fully diagnose and treat the unseen damage done to his body.

And history keeps repeating itself

They say truth is stranger than fiction and I have this story to prove it. As a mom of adult sons, I am now on the other side of that fence and realize that soon I will have to acquiesce to the new women in my boys’ lives. I’ll still jump when they are hurt and when someone calls out “Mrs. Gallagher” and I think I’m still in pretty good shape to put up a good fight, but I suppose I’ll eventually concede that there is another important Mrs. Gallagher in each of their lives. But, only time will tell all that, because when Mrs. Gallagher fights for her man, things get interesting.