What if this were you?

It's late at night, and you are startled awake by the ringing of your cell phone. At first your brain doesn't recognize the sound and incorporates it into some dream you are having. When you finally wake and answer, the words you hear on the other end plunge you into a nightmare. Your friend, your very best friend has been in a car accident, and you were listed as the emergency contact. Can you come to the hospital right away? You bolt out of bed, cursing the darkness as you try to find something to wear. You run down the stairs and out to your car speeding to the hospital and praying all  the way there. You find a place to park and sprint to the doors of the Emergency Room. The nurse at the desk tells you she'll check with the doctor and someone will be with you shortly. You collapse in a chair near the desk and repeat over and over, "Please don't let them die, please don't let them die!" As you wait there it seems time has stopped. You begin to think of all the things you have shared together, the happy times, the sad times. You try desperately to think of the last words you spoke to each other. You rack your brain, "Did I say I love you?"
You hear the sound of the double doors leading to the area where your friend is swinging open. You see a doctor and hope he is coming to tell you what's going on and more importantly that you can see your friend. He stops at the desk to talk to the nurse, she points to you. You breathe for what seems like the first time since you were awakened by the call. You think, "Now, I'll get some answers! Now, I'll be able to see my best friend, hold their hand let them know I'm there. They won't have to go through this alone." The doctor comes over. You immediately stand up and ask how your friend is doing. Instead of responding with, "they're fine, they need surgery, it's touch and go," you hear, "What is your connection to the patient? Are you family?" You pause a second before you speak, and for an instant, you think about lying and saying "yes", but you don't. You tell the doctor that you are close friends, very close friends. And then his words hit you like a tidal wave, almost knocking you down, "I'm sorry. I can only discuss the patient's condition with family." You try, in vain, to explain that your friend hasn't seen their family for years. They don't get along. They had a falling out. You are the only "family" your friend has. You are the only person your friend would want to be making decisions about them. You are the one that your friend would want by there side right now. The doctor tells you he's sorry, but he cannot discuss anything about the patient's condition with you. The family has been contacted and until he speaks with them, you will not be able to see the patient. Whatever he was saying after those words, you never heard because all you can think about is being with your friend. Are they even conscious? Are they fighting to hold on? If you could just hold their hand, see them, somehow let them know that you are there. How frustrated would you be in this situation? It's not fair, why can't they see that? Why are they so blind? In actuality, you are not just friends, you are partners. You have been together for 20 years. The person you love most in the world is going through this horrific experience alone because you happen to live in a state that refuses to recognize how much you mean to each other. Now what's right about that?