Illness Part 3

There were all sorts of medical terms I knew nothing about such as pH in his blood and creatinine (which I had typed for him on lab documents, but never truly understood), blood pressure monitored through an arterial line? Fentanyl – my husband? Restraints in his hospital bed? Talking with complete strangers about bronchoscopy and dialysis I found it difficult to comprehend that we were discussing my husband of forty-seven years.

Walking into another room in our home I realized I would likely need to figure out his method of bookkeeping and bill payments. The on-line payments I understood. We had such different methods of bookkeeping that over the years we had each gotten our own checking accounts!

Slowly it dawned upon me that I would not only need to oversee finances, but if and when I brought him home from the hospital I would need to do the shopping, tote the groceries to and from the car, put it all away and continue with the cooking, cleaning et cetera as our needs dictated. I began to realize that I would not bring home from the hospital the same man that was here on New Year’s Day. Forty-seven years of marriage and all plans were suddenly in flux with the future indeterminate. Fear was lurking amidst my every activity. With faith I clung to the God of all mercies to direct my steps and keep my heart and mind.

Toby Mack released a song about that time called “I Just Need U” and I played it over and over and over again.
“And, all I know is You’re my only hope.
When I’m up when I’m down,
When the wolves come around,
When my feet hit the ground,
I just need, I just need You,
On my darkest days,
When I’m losing faith,
No, it ain’t gon’ change,
I just need, I just need You,
Lord, I need You,
Yeah, I just need You.”


Bob’s high school sweetheart is now a general practitioner in the northeast and had recently had a husband in critical condition. I finally found her contact information following her latest Christmas card and what Bob had told me about her medical practice. I left a call with her answering service and she called back within minutes. She understood the power of the presence of a loving wife. After reviewing the progress of my illness and symptoms, she encouraged me to put on a mask and go to him. Another local ER doc who is a friend told me to just walk in like I knew what I was doing. Even spending one hour with him could make a difference.

He was admitted Thursday night. My cough began to break up Saturday night. Sunday I was in his room. No one questioned my presence at the hospital. They kept him sedated and unconscious for a total of almost five days. It seemed an eternity to our family. We were uncertain when they eventually let him wake up if he would be able to maintain breathing on his own without the help of the respirator. He had easily six IV bags hanging along with the jug of liquid that our son called his milkshake for the naso-gastric feeding tube. Wires and tubes in both sides of his neck. Catheter and other tubes.

My California lifeguard lay critically ill and I was helpless to change that. Eventually I gathered information for at least seven groups of email addresses to provide updates and prayer requests regarding his condition. Anyone who loved him, was willing to pray, and wanted updates made the list. In the beginning I sent updates twice a day or more. Later, it tapered off to once a day and then even less. We needed all the help we could get to return him to health and well-being. We are eternally grateful to those who prayed for us.

More than once as doctors were telling me about his progress I would have to step away, take a breath and compose myself. Sunday the weather was taking a turn for the worse. I went home and packed a bag. I did not want to be stranded at home with a winter storm possibly keeping me from Bob’s side. I moved into his room.