| Essay Non-Fiction posted January 16, 2018 |
  |
Part 1
Coping With Your Wife Heart Attacks
by papa55mike
There are many things I'll tell you about what's happening to my loving wife, Wanda. But I wanted to share with you is the myriad of feelings a husband goes through witnessing his wife's struggle just to survive.
This all started several nights ago when Wanda woke up and in a hot sweat and couldn't breathe. After several minutes she began to get her breath back. These events continued to happen for the next four nights, gradually getting worse each night. On the fourth night, the attack completely disabled her. I'm amazed, Wanda found the strength to argue with me about calling an ambulance. "I don't want to go to the hospital!"
"Well, do you want to stay home and die?" I ask.
The ambulance gets here in ten minutes.
I'm sitting in our old Jeep waiting for them to secure Wanda in the back of the ambulance. I can't help but wonder how our lives changed at this very moment. That's when I realize, nothing will ever be the same.
At the Milan Hospital, they quickly ran an EKG on her. I can't figure out why they're checking her heart? She can't breathe! That's when we both find out that women have different symptoms then a man when having a heart attack. Men have chest pains, shortness of breath, and a burning sensation down their arm or leg. A woman may only have indigestion, shortness of breath, or slight pain in an arm or leg. Wanda and I are shocked to hear this. We didn't know!
The emergency room doctor walks into our cubicle and tells us he's sending to Jackson-Madison County hospital. He's already talked to the cardiologist there, an ambulance is on the way. Right then, I knew the severity of the situation. I begin to reason out that every time Wanda had one of her breathing fits, she was actually having a heart attack. Four of them, so far.
My heart sank to my toes, everything completely stops. An emptiness begins to creep into my soul. It's not a feeling of loss or grief, but a deep sorrow that you can never fully express.
When the ambulance leaves for Jackson, I head home for a little bit to gather up some things. For some reason, I get a complete change of clothes for Wanda. I'm thinking, she'll be out of the hospital tomorrow. Nothing for myself.
~
When I get to Jackson, Wanda is still in the emergency room. She's has a smile for me when I walk in. Wanda tells me all of the tests they quickly ran on her. The doctor told her that her room on the eighth floor is almost ready. Neither one of us can figure out why they're putting her in a room. The doctors know, but we sure don't.
That's incredibly frustrating! You desire all of their knowledge, and they're unwilling to share any scrap of it. It feels like you're in a tug-of-war and the rope is attached to a thick brick wall. Just pull on it all you want, it ain't budging. I know why they do this, they have to make sure of their facts. But it's so disheartening!
After we get Wanda into her room, the morning goes well. We talk and laugh while watching movies on TCM. It must be beautiful-blonde-day with stars like Ginger Rogers, Joan Blondell, and several others. I can't tell you a title though. It doesn't seem to matter, we're together.
I'm trying to write a little bit of humor in this piece, but it's very hard to do. There is one thing that we both laugh at. Wanda, going to the bathroom. She slowly flips her legs off the bed, snatches her IV pole in her hand then slowly walks into the bathroom with her butt hanging out of the bottom of her surgical gown. Wanda looks at me and says, "Ain't this a pretty sight?" I nearly fall out of my chair.
This afternoon, I hug and kiss Wanda and tell her I love her. She wants me to go home, even though I don't want to, so I can make contact with all of our family and friends.
I need to tell you something about myself, I hate talking on the phone with a passion! Of course, I spend the next hour and a half on the phone. It's pure torture. Trying to hold it together while talking to everybody is an extreme challenge. Especially, while everybody else is losing their minds. I never thought I'd say this, but thank God for Facebook. It's how I get in touch with most of our family. Then they all call!
~
I get to her room, Wanda is completely out of it. She's had another attack last night. They're giving her a breathing treatment trying to get some air into her lungs. Wanda finally notices me sitting a chair and smiles.
An hour later, she has another attack. Wanda sits up in bed and says, "I can't breathe!" That's when the doctors rush in and send me out. Fifteen minutes later, I'm standing at the end of the hall watching the doctors and nurses running down the hall with Wanda in her bed, rushing to surgery. Tears are falling from my eyes, the extreme emptiness returns with a vengeance.
It takes four hours before anybody comes to talk to me. The cardiologist, Doctor Robinson, shows me three pictures of her heart. There are three main arteries leading to her heart, all three of them are blocked. The main artery leading to her heart is completely blocked. They will have to do open heart surgery, a triple bypass. I tell him that I understand and thank Doctor Robinson for all that he's done. The nurses tell me they will have Wanda completely ready in a little bit then I can come in and see her.
Two hours of agony, waiting for someone to get me. A nurse finally tells me that Wanda is in cardiac ICU room 240. It takes me a minute to find her room. Standing in the doorway, I almost collapse when I see Wanda with all of the tubes running in and out of her body. They're attached to more medical monitors than I have ever seen. Wanda is heavily sedated in a medically induced coma. I lose all feeling in my body, I can't walk, breathe, or think. I'm crushed by the weight of this situation.
I know that I'm not going through this crisis alone. My Savior, Jesus Christ, is standing right beside me. Angels fill Wanda's room, ministering to all her needs. Knowing this doesn't stop the pain from growing inside of me. But I do feel His love showering down on me. It helps me tremendously. Without that love, I don't know what I'd do.
~
Saturday is another (I'm running out of adjectives here) demoralizing day. Ten hours of watching all the machines keep her alive. The incredible nurses, checking on her every ten to fifteen minutes and seeing to her every need. All I can do is stroke her forehead and squeeze her hand. I feel so helpless.
Shortly after two in the afternoon, a wonderful lady who is helping us with all of the paperwork comes into Wanda's room to sign her up for SSDI Total Disability. I'm completely confused until I read the top line of the form, total congestive heart failure. Wanda actually flatlined Friday morning. I don't know why this news hit me so hard. It's something that's been on my mind since I figured out that her breathing spells were actually heart attacks. Six of them.
It feels like I'm falling from the top floor of the hospital and I slam into the concrete below. I had actually lost my wife, but God gave her back me.
~
Sunday is another soul-sucking day. At least there are a couple of NFL playoff games on today. I can't focus on them. I'm trying to work on this essay and read a little bit, but it's not working. I've been thinking about how Wanda has blessed so many families by being a babysitter for over thirty years. There's no way I can remember all of the names of the children, but every child that walked in our door became a part of the family. Wanda loved each child with all of her heart. There are so many children that Wanda started keeping when they were babies and were with her until the day they started school. What a blessing for all of those families. I wish I had a dollar for every poopie diaper she's changed. We'd have no money problems.
I've noticed something new growing inside me since Wanda was put in the hospital, loneliness. The only family we have living close to us is my son, Jerimiah, daughter-in-law Julie, and our special granddaughter, Shynoa. They've stopped by to visit several times. All of our other family live miles away. We chat on Facebook and occasionally talk on the phone, but Wanda and I knew they had their own lives. They needed to grow and become adults they were going to be. I guess the old saying is true. If you love someone, you have to let them go.
I had to come tonight to update all of our family and get some more clothes. It's so different when I'm at home now. We've lived in our house for thirty-seven years. Our youngest son moved out twenty years ago, we've had our house to ourselves ever since. We eat supper when we want to, go to bed early if we so desire, and watch what we want to on television. But we're always together. Now, it's way too quiet! I have the television playing in the living room, my radio is blaring while I'm on the computer in my office. I still look for Wanda coming out of the kitchen to tell me supper is ready. When I'm sitting in the living room, I think I hear her start the shower and glance that way. I still haven't slept in our bed, it's not comfortable anymore without her beside me. I'm absolutely miserable at home!
~
I get a little good news today when I walk into Wanda's room. They've turned down her sedation and heart pump a little to check her heart function. Wanda's heart seems to be getting a little stronger. Something the doctors wanted to know before surgery. I walk over beside her bed then rub her forehead, she opens her eyes. I know she can't see me or even know I'm here, but that's the first movement I've seen since her heart stopped last Friday. It gives me a little hope.
The lightly falling rain outside of Wanda's room window is trying to dampen my spirits a little. The thought of sitting in that evil chair for a few more hours doesn't thrill me or my back either. So, I decided to explore the hospital. They have walking trails on most of the floors. My favorite is the Physicians Tower. It's on the same floor has Wanda's room and goes over a road that connects two buildings. Walking out and back is a quarter of a mile, I've walked three miles on it already today.
During these long days before surgery, I've managed to write twelve pages of this essay. Finished reading my Poets&Writers magazine, completely read my new Poetry magazine, and completely read Ray Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451" which is a great book. I've had a lot of time on my hands.
After eating a little lunch and walking again, the evil chair is calling my name. A couple of hours later, the heart surgeon, Doctor Sievers, comes in to see me. He says that Wanda's heart is getting a little stronger. The right side of Wanda's heart is doing better, but the left side is really struggling with the blockage. Wanda's lungs still have a little fluid on them, but they need to get her heart fixed so she can start to recover. Even though the surgery will be at a greater risk, it's time. They have put her on the schedule for tomorrow.
I'm not really sure what to feel. The first reaction is of course relief, but fear begins to creep in. Questions are filling my mind with doubt. Will she survive the surgery? How long will her recovery take? Will she be the same loving wife I've always known? I cast all of these doubts down to the ground! I will not allow Satan to take control of this situation. Whatever the Lord's will is, let it be done!
One of the things I've noticed while sitting in the critical care waiting room is how many people there are like me. They're living through something horrible happening to a loved one, totally alone. My love and prayers go out to all of them, I know the emptiness they feel. It sucks royally!
To be continued.
There are many things I'll tell you about what's happening to my loving wife, Wanda. But I wanted to share with you is the myriad of feelings a husband goes through witnessing his wife's struggle just to survive.
This all started several nights ago when Wanda woke up and in a hot sweat and couldn't breathe. After several minutes she began to get her breath back. These events continued to happen for the next four nights, gradually getting worse each night. On the fourth night, the attack completely disabled her. I'm amazed, Wanda found the strength to argue with me about calling an ambulance. "I don't want to go to the hospital!"
"Well, do you want to stay home and die?" I ask.
The ambulance gets here in ten minutes.
I'm sitting in our old Jeep waiting for them to secure Wanda in the back of the ambulance. I can't help but wonder how our lives changed at this very moment. That's when I realize, nothing will ever be the same.
At the Milan Hospital, they quickly ran an EKG on her. I can't figure out why they're checking her heart? She can't breathe! That's when we both find out that women have different symptoms then a man when having a heart attack. Men have chest pains, shortness of breath, and a burning sensation down their arm or leg. A woman may only have indigestion, shortness of breath, or slight pain in an arm or leg. Wanda and I are shocked to hear this. We didn't know!
The emergency room doctor walks into our cubicle and tells us he's sending to Jackson-Madison County hospital. He's already talked to the cardiologist there, an ambulance is on the way. Right then, I knew the severity of the situation. I begin to reason out that every time Wanda had one of her breathing fits, she was actually having a heart attack. Four of them, so far.
My heart sank to my toes, everything completely stops. An emptiness begins to creep into my soul. It's not a feeling of loss or grief, but a deep sorrow that you can never fully express.
When the ambulance leaves for Jackson, I head home for a little bit to gather up some things. For some reason, I get a complete change of clothes for Wanda. I'm thinking, she'll be out of the hospital tomorrow. Nothing for myself.
~
When I get to Jackson, Wanda is still in the emergency room. She's has a smile for me when I walk in. Wanda tells me all of the tests they quickly ran on her. The doctor told her that her room on the eighth floor is almost ready. Neither one of us can figure out why they're putting her in a room. The doctors know, but we sure don't.
That's incredibly frustrating! You desire all of their knowledge, and they're unwilling to share any scrap of it. It feels like you're in a tug-of-war and the rope is attached to a thick brick wall. Just pull on it all you want, it ain't budging. I know why they do this, they have to make sure of their facts. But it's so disheartening!
After we get Wanda into her room, the morning goes well. We talk and laugh while watching movies on TCM. It must be beautiful-blonde-day with stars like Ginger Rogers, Joan Blondell, and several others. I can't tell you a title though. It doesn't seem to matter, we're together.
I'm trying to write a little bit of humor in this piece, but it's very hard to do. There is one thing that we both laugh at. Wanda, going to the bathroom. She slowly flips her legs off the bed, snatches her IV pole in her hand then slowly walks into the bathroom with her butt hanging out of the bottom of her surgical gown. Wanda looks at me and says, "Ain't this a pretty sight?" I nearly fall out of my chair.
This afternoon, I hug and kiss Wanda and tell her I love her. She wants me to go home, even though I don't want to, so I can make contact with all of our family and friends.
I need to tell you something about myself, I hate talking on the phone with a passion! Of course, I spend the next hour and a half on the phone. It's pure torture. Trying to hold it together while talking to everybody is an extreme challenge. Especially, while everybody else is losing their minds. I never thought I'd say this, but thank God for Facebook. It's how I get in touch with most of our family. Then they all call!
~
I get to her room, Wanda is completely out of it. She's had another attack last night. They're giving her a breathing treatment trying to get some air into her lungs. Wanda finally notices me sitting a chair and smiles.
An hour later, she has another attack. Wanda sits up in bed and says, "I can't breathe!" That's when the doctors rush in and send me out. Fifteen minutes later, I'm standing at the end of the hall watching the doctors and nurses running down the hall with Wanda in her bed, rushing to surgery. Tears are falling from my eyes, the extreme emptiness returns with a vengeance.
It takes four hours before anybody comes to talk to me. The cardiologist, Doctor Robinson, shows me three pictures of her heart. There are three main arteries leading to her heart, all three of them are blocked. The main artery leading to her heart is completely blocked. They will have to do open heart surgery, a triple bypass. I tell him that I understand and thank Doctor Robinson for all that he's done. The nurses tell me they will have Wanda completely ready in a little bit then I can come in and see her.
Two hours of agony, waiting for someone to get me. A nurse finally tells me that Wanda is in cardiac ICU room 240. It takes me a minute to find her room. Standing in the doorway, I almost collapse when I see Wanda with all of the tubes running in and out of her body. They're attached to more medical monitors than I have ever seen. Wanda is heavily sedated in a medically induced coma. I lose all feeling in my body, I can't walk, breathe, or think. I'm crushed by the weight of this situation.
I know that I'm not going through this crisis alone. My Savior, Jesus Christ, is standing right beside me. Angels fill Wanda's room, ministering to all her needs. Knowing this doesn't stop the pain from growing inside of me. But I do feel His love showering down on me. It helps me tremendously. Without that love, I don't know what I'd do.
~
Saturday is another (I'm running out of adjectives here) demoralizing day. Ten hours of watching all the machines keep her alive. The incredible nurses, checking on her every ten to fifteen minutes and seeing to her every need. All I can do is stroke her forehead and squeeze her hand. I feel so helpless.
Shortly after two in the afternoon, a wonderful lady who is helping us with all of the paperwork comes into Wanda's room to sign her up for SSDI Total Disability. I'm completely confused until I read the top line of the form, total congestive heart failure. Wanda actually flatlined Friday morning. I don't know why this news hit me so hard. It's something that's been on my mind since I figured out that her breathing spells were actually heart attacks. Six of them.
It feels like I'm falling from the top floor of the hospital and I slam into the concrete below. I had actually lost my wife, but God gave her back me.
~
Sunday is another soul-sucking day. At least there are a couple of NFL playoff games on today. I can't focus on them. I'm trying to work on this essay and read a little bit, but it's not working. I've been thinking about how Wanda has blessed so many families by being a babysitter for over thirty years. There's no way I can remember all of the names of the children, but every child that walked in our door became a part of the family. Wanda loved each child with all of her heart. There are so many children that Wanda started keeping when they were babies and were with her until the day they started school. What a blessing for all of those families. I wish I had a dollar for every poopie diaper she's changed. We'd have no money problems.
I've noticed something new growing inside me since Wanda was put in the hospital, loneliness. The only family we have living close to us is my son, Jerimiah, daughter-in-law Julie, and our special granddaughter, Shynoa. They've stopped by to visit several times. All of our other family live miles away. We chat on Facebook and occasionally talk on the phone, but Wanda and I knew they had their own lives. They needed to grow and become adults they were going to be. I guess the old saying is true. If you love someone, you have to let them go.
I had to come tonight to update all of our family and get some more clothes. It's so different when I'm at home now. We've lived in our house for thirty-seven years. Our youngest son moved out twenty years ago, we've had our house to ourselves ever since. We eat supper when we want to, go to bed early if we so desire, and watch what we want to on television. But we're always together. Now, it's way too quiet! I have the television playing in the living room, my radio is blaring while I'm on the computer in my office. I still look for Wanda coming out of the kitchen to tell me supper is ready. When I'm sitting in the living room, I think I hear her start the shower and glance that way. I still haven't slept in our bed, it's not comfortable anymore without her beside me. I'm absolutely miserable at home!
~
I get a little good news today when I walk into Wanda's room. They've turned down her sedation and heart pump a little to check her heart function. Wanda's heart seems to be getting a little stronger. Something the doctors wanted to know before surgery. I walk over beside her bed then rub her forehead, she opens her eyes. I know she can't see me or even know I'm here, but that's the first movement I've seen since her heart stopped last Friday. It gives me a little hope.
The lightly falling rain outside of Wanda's room window is trying to dampen my spirits a little. The thought of sitting in that evil chair for a few more hours doesn't thrill me or my back either. So, I decided to explore the hospital. They have walking trails on most of the floors. My favorite is the Physicians Tower. It's on the same floor has Wanda's room and goes over a road that connects two buildings. Walking out and back is a quarter of a mile, I've walked three miles on it already today.
During these long days before surgery, I've managed to write twelve pages of this essay. Finished reading my Poets&Writers magazine, completely read my new Poetry magazine, and completely read Ray Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451" which is a great book. I've had a lot of time on my hands.
After eating a little lunch and walking again, the evil chair is calling my name. A couple of hours later, the heart surgeon, Doctor Sievers, comes in to see me. He says that Wanda's heart is getting a little stronger. The right side of Wanda's heart is doing better, but the left side is really struggling with the blockage. Wanda's lungs still have a little fluid on them, but they need to get her heart fixed so she can start to recover. Even though the surgery will be at a greater risk, it's time. They have put her on the schedule for tomorrow.
I'm not really sure what to feel. The first reaction is of course relief, but fear begins to creep in. Questions are filling my mind with doubt. Will she survive the surgery? How long will her recovery take? Will she be the same loving wife I've always known? I cast all of these doubts down to the ground! I will not allow Satan to take control of this situation. Whatever the Lord's will is, let it be done!
One of the things I've noticed while sitting in the critical care waiting room is how many people there are like me. They're living through something horrible happening to a loved one, totally alone. My love and prayers go out to all of them, I know the emptiness they feel. It sucks royally!
To be continued.
This all started several nights ago when Wanda woke up and in a hot sweat and couldn't breathe. After several minutes she began to get her breath back. These events continued to happen for the next four nights, gradually getting worse each night. On the fourth night, the attack completely disabled her. I'm amazed, Wanda found the strength to argue with me about calling an ambulance. "I don't want to go to the hospital!"
"Well, do you want to stay home and die?" I ask.
The ambulance gets here in ten minutes.
I'm sitting in our old Jeep waiting for them to secure Wanda in the back of the ambulance. I can't help but wonder how our lives changed at this very moment. That's when I realize, nothing will ever be the same.
At the Milan Hospital, they quickly ran an EKG on her. I can't figure out why they're checking her heart? She can't breathe! That's when we both find out that women have different symptoms then a man when having a heart attack. Men have chest pains, shortness of breath, and a burning sensation down their arm or leg. A woman may only have indigestion, shortness of breath, or slight pain in an arm or leg. Wanda and I are shocked to hear this. We didn't know!
The emergency room doctor walks into our cubicle and tells us he's sending to Jackson-Madison County hospital. He's already talked to the cardiologist there, an ambulance is on the way. Right then, I knew the severity of the situation. I begin to reason out that every time Wanda had one of her breathing fits, she was actually having a heart attack. Four of them, so far.
My heart sank to my toes, everything completely stops. An emptiness begins to creep into my soul. It's not a feeling of loss or grief, but a deep sorrow that you can never fully express.
When the ambulance leaves for Jackson, I head home for a little bit to gather up some things. For some reason, I get a complete change of clothes for Wanda. I'm thinking, she'll be out of the hospital tomorrow. Nothing for myself.
~
When I get to Jackson, Wanda is still in the emergency room. She's has a smile for me when I walk in. Wanda tells me all of the tests they quickly ran on her. The doctor told her that her room on the eighth floor is almost ready. Neither one of us can figure out why they're putting her in a room. The doctors know, but we sure don't.
That's incredibly frustrating! You desire all of their knowledge, and they're unwilling to share any scrap of it. It feels like you're in a tug-of-war and the rope is attached to a thick brick wall. Just pull on it all you want, it ain't budging. I know why they do this, they have to make sure of their facts. But it's so disheartening!
After we get Wanda into her room, the morning goes well. We talk and laugh while watching movies on TCM. It must be beautiful-blonde-day with stars like Ginger Rogers, Joan Blondell, and several others. I can't tell you a title though. It doesn't seem to matter, we're together.
I'm trying to write a little bit of humor in this piece, but it's very hard to do. There is one thing that we both laugh at. Wanda, going to the bathroom. She slowly flips her legs off the bed, snatches her IV pole in her hand then slowly walks into the bathroom with her butt hanging out of the bottom of her surgical gown. Wanda looks at me and says, "Ain't this a pretty sight?" I nearly fall out of my chair.
This afternoon, I hug and kiss Wanda and tell her I love her. She wants me to go home, even though I don't want to, so I can make contact with all of our family and friends.
I need to tell you something about myself, I hate talking on the phone with a passion! Of course, I spend the next hour and a half on the phone. It's pure torture. Trying to hold it together while talking to everybody is an extreme challenge. Especially, while everybody else is losing their minds. I never thought I'd say this, but thank God for Facebook. It's how I get in touch with most of our family. Then they all call!
~
I get to her room, Wanda is completely out of it. She's had another attack last night. They're giving her a breathing treatment trying to get some air into her lungs. Wanda finally notices me sitting a chair and smiles.
An hour later, she has another attack. Wanda sits up in bed and says, "I can't breathe!" That's when the doctors rush in and send me out. Fifteen minutes later, I'm standing at the end of the hall watching the doctors and nurses running down the hall with Wanda in her bed, rushing to surgery. Tears are falling from my eyes, the extreme emptiness returns with a vengeance.
It takes four hours before anybody comes to talk to me. The cardiologist, Doctor Robinson, shows me three pictures of her heart. There are three main arteries leading to her heart, all three of them are blocked. The main artery leading to her heart is completely blocked. They will have to do open heart surgery, a triple bypass. I tell him that I understand and thank Doctor Robinson for all that he's done. The nurses tell me they will have Wanda completely ready in a little bit then I can come in and see her.
Two hours of agony, waiting for someone to get me. A nurse finally tells me that Wanda is in cardiac ICU room 240. It takes me a minute to find her room. Standing in the doorway, I almost collapse when I see Wanda with all of the tubes running in and out of her body. They're attached to more medical monitors than I have ever seen. Wanda is heavily sedated in a medically induced coma. I lose all feeling in my body, I can't walk, breathe, or think. I'm crushed by the weight of this situation.
I know that I'm not going through this crisis alone. My Savior, Jesus Christ, is standing right beside me. Angels fill Wanda's room, ministering to all her needs. Knowing this doesn't stop the pain from growing inside of me. But I do feel His love showering down on me. It helps me tremendously. Without that love, I don't know what I'd do.
~
Saturday is another (I'm running out of adjectives here) demoralizing day. Ten hours of watching all the machines keep her alive. The incredible nurses, checking on her every ten to fifteen minutes and seeing to her every need. All I can do is stroke her forehead and squeeze her hand. I feel so helpless.
Shortly after two in the afternoon, a wonderful lady who is helping us with all of the paperwork comes into Wanda's room to sign her up for SSDI Total Disability. I'm completely confused until I read the top line of the form, total congestive heart failure. Wanda actually flatlined Friday morning. I don't know why this news hit me so hard. It's something that's been on my mind since I figured out that her breathing spells were actually heart attacks. Six of them.
It feels like I'm falling from the top floor of the hospital and I slam into the concrete below. I had actually lost my wife, but God gave her back me.
~
Sunday is another soul-sucking day. At least there are a couple of NFL playoff games on today. I can't focus on them. I'm trying to work on this essay and read a little bit, but it's not working. I've been thinking about how Wanda has blessed so many families by being a babysitter for over thirty years. There's no way I can remember all of the names of the children, but every child that walked in our door became a part of the family. Wanda loved each child with all of her heart. There are so many children that Wanda started keeping when they were babies and were with her until the day they started school. What a blessing for all of those families. I wish I had a dollar for every poopie diaper she's changed. We'd have no money problems.
I've noticed something new growing inside me since Wanda was put in the hospital, loneliness. The only family we have living close to us is my son, Jerimiah, daughter-in-law Julie, and our special granddaughter, Shynoa. They've stopped by to visit several times. All of our other family live miles away. We chat on Facebook and occasionally talk on the phone, but Wanda and I knew they had their own lives. They needed to grow and become adults they were going to be. I guess the old saying is true. If you love someone, you have to let them go.
I had to come tonight to update all of our family and get some more clothes. It's so different when I'm at home now. We've lived in our house for thirty-seven years. Our youngest son moved out twenty years ago, we've had our house to ourselves ever since. We eat supper when we want to, go to bed early if we so desire, and watch what we want to on television. But we're always together. Now, it's way too quiet! I have the television playing in the living room, my radio is blaring while I'm on the computer in my office. I still look for Wanda coming out of the kitchen to tell me supper is ready. When I'm sitting in the living room, I think I hear her start the shower and glance that way. I still haven't slept in our bed, it's not comfortable anymore without her beside me. I'm absolutely miserable at home!
~
I get a little good news today when I walk into Wanda's room. They've turned down her sedation and heart pump a little to check her heart function. Wanda's heart seems to be getting a little stronger. Something the doctors wanted to know before surgery. I walk over beside her bed then rub her forehead, she opens her eyes. I know she can't see me or even know I'm here, but that's the first movement I've seen since her heart stopped last Friday. It gives me a little hope.
The lightly falling rain outside of Wanda's room window is trying to dampen my spirits a little. The thought of sitting in that evil chair for a few more hours doesn't thrill me or my back either. So, I decided to explore the hospital. They have walking trails on most of the floors. My favorite is the Physicians Tower. It's on the same floor has Wanda's room and goes over a road that connects two buildings. Walking out and back is a quarter of a mile, I've walked three miles on it already today.
During these long days before surgery, I've managed to write twelve pages of this essay. Finished reading my Poets&Writers magazine, completely read my new Poetry magazine, and completely read Ray Bradbury's "Fahrenheit 451" which is a great book. I've had a lot of time on my hands.
After eating a little lunch and walking again, the evil chair is calling my name. A couple of hours later, the heart surgeon, Doctor Sievers, comes in to see me. He says that Wanda's heart is getting a little stronger. The right side of Wanda's heart is doing better, but the left side is really struggling with the blockage. Wanda's lungs still have a little fluid on them, but they need to get her heart fixed so she can start to recover. Even though the surgery will be at a greater risk, it's time. They have put her on the schedule for tomorrow.
I'm not really sure what to feel. The first reaction is of course relief, but fear begins to creep in. Questions are filling my mind with doubt. Will she survive the surgery? How long will her recovery take? Will she be the same loving wife I've always known? I cast all of these doubts down to the ground! I will not allow Satan to take control of this situation. Whatever the Lord's will is, let it be done!
One of the things I've noticed while sitting in the critical care waiting room is how many people there are like me. They're living through something horrible happening to a loved one, totally alone. My love and prayers go out to all of them, I know the emptiness they feel. It sucks royally!
To be continued.
I'm not going to leave you hanging, Wanda did get through surgery, but her recovery is extremely slow. I know this essay is a little rough, please help me edit it. I'm heading back to the hospital on very snowy roads, so it may be several days before I reply to your reviews.
Please, hug each one of your family members today and tell them you love them.
Many thanks for reading.
Have a great day and God bless.
mike
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Please, hug each one of your family members today and tell them you love them.
Many thanks for reading.
Have a great day and God bless.
mike
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