New Year’s Resolution: Never, Ever Forget

I think of my husbands failing health and compare it to a haunted house in the dark woods. It’s how I feel when I’m walking down that long hallway to his patient room and I’m filled with uncertainty.

“Hi Hon,” I say, “How are you doing today?”

I imagine the doctors ever so carefully climbing up the creaking stairs of the house and turning the knob. A door opens and all the answers have to be dusted off and tried. An energetic doctor examines his patient as the kind hear-ted Nurse tells our guy that he is doing better today. I immediately look into my man’s blinking eyes for verification.

“I want to go home,” he cries out, “and I want you to take off these gloves.”

“There you have it,” the doctor laughs, “Two days ago, he was so unaware that he wasn’t fighting at all. ‘Maybe we’re not as deep into the woods as it seems,’ I think to myself as I listen to the doc.

My lifetime partner’s sodium level is low so sugar water is added to his IV as the Nurse fiddles with hospital equipment and I look around the room. “Just this morning, he told me what his name is and even spelled it out.” She smiles.

“That’s great.” I say.

The ‘Press’ swelling is going down some, lessening the confusion that was caused by super high blood pressure on the day he was admitted to ER. The doctor explains this and I am happy. It means that his dementia like behavior isn’t dementia at all. There was no stroke, seizure, or brain damage and my husbands heart is in fairly good shape.

“Doctor, thank you so much.” I say.

“You are very welcome."

The patient room clears and I’m alone with the love of my life again. He stares at me, returning my smile with a smile that only he can give and I feel like he’s returning to his old self. In all the years we’ve been together, I’ve never seen him stare so much!

“When am I getting off the island?” he asks.

“What do you mean by that, hon.?”

“I can’t connect to anything and I don’t remember much.”

And so, the haunted house of his health changes mysteries and I look for a raft to help him escape the lonely island. If he’s counting down from 10 to 1 in his head, I know he’ll be sleeping soon. He wants me to stay but he’s fighting to keep his eyes open. I tell him to close his eyes and rest up for the rescue team to bring him to his better self.

“I don’t understand,” he cries out, “the last thing I even remember is waiting.”

Yes, seventeen days ago, he was in the Emergency Room, admitted to the hospital and waiting. The intake worker had said, “A doctor will be in shortly to speak to you,” and that’s the last thing he remembered. It was on Day 1 that he was put on a life support breathing machine.

Today, it is a new day. It’s Tuesday afternoon now and my husband has finally fallen asleep. I must leave now and return tomorrow. The next thing on the agenda is to have his gall bladder removed. “I want to look at some areas while I operate on him,” the surgeon said earlier. “I want to make sure his colon is OK and there aren’t any other issues that need to be addressed.”

And so, I return to hallway of the haunted house that has turned into a lonely island and I walk towards the door. I notice the door is a long ways away and I walk slowly.

“Care to hop on the back seat,” the courtesy cart driver asks, “which way are you headed?” I’ve decided against telling the man that I’m headed for the best deal on a raft that I can find.

“I need to get to the parking lot.” I say, “Thank-you.”

“No problem, Miss. No problem at all.”