I go up to the room with a big wrench to break the latch with the owner of the hotel because I need a witness with me to prove I didn't mess with anything inside a secure room.
We get in and he's face down in the bed. I've never, ever had such a sinking, pit-of-your-stomach, get-the-f**k-out-now feeling in my life. We walk into the room, and I'll never, ever forget this scene. He had been gone probably hours. It was surreal. My first experience seeing a body in person, and after a 15 hour shift, I wasn't handling it too well. I pull out my phone and call 911, and kind of stand there in shock. He had clearly had a seizure, probably a Gran Mal as well as thats what my mom has and he looked very similar to how she does after she has one (Hands curled towards throat, head turned very sharply one direction). I had no idea what I was going to tell his wife. By the time I had got back to the desk, the police had arrived and told me very explicitly to not tell her anything, even going so far as to say that I couldn't answer the phone if she calls. Unfortunately for me, we don't have caller ID. The phone's already ringing, and I already know who it is, but I have to answer anyway.
FD: (same line I say every time I answer the phone)
DW: "Its DW, did you get into the room?"
WTF do I even say here? I'm shaking at this point and practically having a panic attack.
FD: "I did"
DW: "Is he still there?"
FD: "He is"
DW: "I don't understand, he was supposed to be in Tennessee by now, why hasn't he called me?"
FD: "Ma'am, I'm really sorry, unbelievably sorry for this, but I can't tell you any details."
DW: "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??"
Okay, I really can't do this.
FD: "I think he may have had a seizure. He was unresponsive when we got into the room (he was clearly gone but I couldn't tell her that) and I've had to call 911. They should be calling you immediately I would think."
DW: "Oh my God, oh God this isn't happening to me"