Oh, Boston, you're my home!: My Account of the Boston Marathon Bombings

Please note: This is a very sensitive subject for me and the citizens of Boston.  There are definitely words of anger in this post and strong language.  You have been warned.

Monday, April 15, 2013 started out like your typical Marathon Monday.   People come from around the country, and the world, to witness this event.  This makes driving in Boston a bitch, despite the fact that people love it.  I always get a lot of cancelations due to heavy traffic and locals don’t want to deal with it. 

As in usual fashion, I got up and got ready for work.  Luckily, I work about 2 miles away from the finish line.  In Bostonian, that means I’m at least a good 10 minutes away (no joke) because Boston streets are set up like some drunk got a hold of an Etch-a-Sketch.  Also, I get to work around 7:00am and there is very little traffic (and people) around during that time, just other medical staff for the surrounding hospitals.  So, I had that on my side.

I work for an Orthopedic Trauma surgeon at Brigham and Women’s Hospital.  The best in the business as far as I’m concerned, but I may be a little biased.  He’s a brilliant surgeon and an all around great guy.  I couldn’t say enough good things about him at this point, and later you’ll find out exactly why.

Monday clinics are always crazy.  We usually have about 50+ patients for the day and I get called down to schedule surgery for patients who need it urgently done.  This was my first day back after a week-long visit to my sister and her family in Georgia.  I got tons of phone calls and returned calls that I received over the weekend.  I was also catching up on some things that were left for me.  Everything seemed to be running in Monday fashion. 

My husband and I instant message each other while we work.  We keep each other caught up on current events and discuss important things, like what to have for dinner or what we need to get from the store.  It was around 3:00 that afternoon and all was well.  Then, I got the first instant message from Jim...

“Did you hear there was an explosion at the Marathon?”

I immediately turned to my coworkers.  “Did you hear there were explosion at the Marathon?” 

“No.  It’s probably a manhole cover or something”, said one of my coworkers. 

I turned back to my computer.  “No, what happened??  I haven’t been on the news yet.”

“They’re reporting people are missing limbs.  They’re saying it was a bomb.”

At that moment, I went right on the web.  I read a breaking news story about 2 confirmed explosions at the finish line on Boston.Com.  I couldn’t believe what I was reading.  How could this happen?  How could someone defile an event that was about endurance, good will, and the human spirit?  I was in total shock. 

The first thing that came to my head was my friend, Ally.  She had run in the Marathon the year before and I thought she had said she was running it again.  I got really scared.  I sent her a message on Facebook.

“Please let us know you’re ok.  Everyone’s worried.”  By everyone, I meant me.  I wanted to make sure someone I knew was safe.  Considering what was going on, that’s what everyone did.

An announcement of one of our codes was called over the intercom.  I’ll be honest where I’m seated I never heard it.  All I know is that everyone started to panic.  

Another one of my coworkers came up to me and she looked scared.

“We’re on lock down!  What does that mean?  Are we going to be allowed to go home?”  No one knew what to do, not even the management staff.  We had no information and no idea what was going on.  All we knew was that shit was about to get real.

I let Jim know right away.

“The hospital is on lock down.”

“What does that mean?  Will you be able to come home??”  I knew Jim was starting to worry at this point. 

“I don’t know.  I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”

We did find out that we were allowed to leave the building as long as we had our ID badges on us.  I wear mine all day, so that was nothing new to me.  I just didn’t take it off this dreadful day.  I just wanted to go home and be with my husband.

As I waited for the bus, I watched so many ambulances go by and heard more in the distance.  We were one of the hospitals to get those victims because we were so close to the finish line.  I received dozens of messages via Facebook asking if I was ok.  I sent out a post assuring everyone that I was fine and on my way home. 

The bus ride home was very somber and surreal.  It was very quiet and everyone just kept looking for updates and more information.  Everyone looked exhausted and dumbfounded.  We were all in shock.  I was almost home when I got a return message from Ally.

“I am ok!  My cousin (who was running) finished shortly before the bomb went off but she is ok.  Everyone I know that was running is safe.  Thank you for your thoughts!”

I breathed a sigh of relief.  She was ok.  It was a little comforting knowing she was safe.

Little did I know my surgeon had finished his clinic and was eating when he got the page.  According to other people in the area, he ran down the hallway like a shot to the Emergency Department to help.  He helped head up the response team in the ED for the victims.  He went in and took charge.  That’s what he does.  I wish I could’ve seen him in action!

That night, I sat in horror as images from the Marathon made their way onto the news and the web.  The more reports rolled in, the more gruesome the images got.  That’s when I first learned that an 8-year-old boy had been killed in the blasts.  A poor innocent child had his life taken by this horrible act.  I was heartbroken, saddened, and most of all PISSED OFF!  How dare someone try to terrorize MY town, my home?  I thought about all of the awful, sadistic, and painful things I would do to the person... no, scratch that... waste of flesh and bone.  I was so angry and heartbroken, I wept myself to sleep.   

The rest of the week was sort of a blur.  I found out that Mayor Menino started The One Fund the very next day to help victims and their families affected by the blasts.  There was such an outpouring of donations and support they reached $10 million dollars by the end of the first week.  This restored my faith in humanity.  It made me realize that there were still honest, loving, and caring people out there.  Every citizen of Boston band together in a way I can’t describe.  It was a beautiful and touching thing to see happen before my eyes.  I still get a lump in my throat when I think about how people ran towards danger to help those in need, instead of running away to save themselves.

Friday, April 19 I woke up to my alarm and got ready for work.  I set my alarm for the radio, not that horrible buzzer.  While I was getting ready, Jim stood there listening to the radio.  I remember hearing something about a shoot out, an MIT officer on duty was killed, and another officer was wounded.  I’m in such a daze in the morning that I only caught tidbits of the report. 

I when downstairs to put my shoes on and Jim said the weirdest thing.

“The T is shut down.” 

For those of you not familiar with the area, the T is the MBTA trains.  And they were shut down.  Completely shut down.  This sort of thing doesn’t happen unless is a state of emergency.   I was stunned.

“Huh?  What do you mean the T is shut down?”

“I mean the T is shut down; no trains in or out of Boston.  It has to do with that shoot out in Watertown.”

My response was not the most typical thing.

“Shit!  How am I supposed to get to work?  I can’t drive in!”

“I’ll leave the car for you in case they open back up before the day is out.”

Jim had nothing to worry about.  He worked in another town.  He didn’t have to go anywhere near Boston.  I, on the other hand, work right in the heart of the beast.  I wasn’t allowed to park at the hospital so the patients could use the parking.  I had to take public transportation.  My way to work was at a stand-still.    I had no choice but to call in to work.  The city of Boston shut itself down to find the monsters responsible for this. 

I’m going to let you in on a little secret; Boston does not fuck around.  We will find you.  We will shut everything down, lock everyone out, and find you.  We are a no bullshit kind of people.  If you mess with us, then you will be in world of hurt.  Everyone will band together and bring you to justice.  This is the city that STARTED the American Revolution.  Ask the British about how well they faired.  We will hunt you down like the animal you are!  Make no mistake about that! 

Needless to say, I did not make it in to work that day.  I watched the news all day in anticipation of the bombers being caught.  The T was up and running around 6:00 when the city had finished their door-to-door searches.  Everyone cooperated until that son-of-a-bitch was found.  He was put in custody and we were all able to sleep a little better that night knowing he was off the street.

All and all, 3 people were murdered by the cowardly acts of 2 wastes of space that day and another was murdered in cold blood for no other reason than to get his gun.  One terrorist is in jail, and one was used as a speed bump so the other one could get away.  I think about those people every day I walk through the doors of my hospital, knowing we played a role in helping some of those victims.  It warms my heart knowing that my surgeon was directly involved in the care of those affected by the tragedy.  It breaks my heart thinking of those who died for no reason whatsoever. 

Next year, I look forward to Marathon Monday knowing that this city stood together and spit in the face of terror.  We will honor those we lost and run for those still in recovery.  We formed bonds that cannot be broken.  We proved we are Boston Strong.