Althea: A Story of Love

by Philip Rastocny

  Lois leaned over and grabbed her hand. “Althea, it’s Lois. I’m here.” Being this close to her, Lois could see how the bandages wound around her head and how the tubes and wires converged on her body. Beeping noises, squiggling green lines, flashing numbers, and the blaring PA system became unbearable; Lois was unable to maintain her composure. Streams of tears fell from her cheeks as the reality of Althea’s condition set in.

  I gave them the time together they needed, but Lois left her side quickly. “I don’t want to stay too long,” she said. “I have to get back to work but I am thrilled to see how well she’s doing.”

  After we said our goodbyes, Barry, my boss from work and the owner of the company called saying he was on his way over. I explained this to Althea and went downstairs to meet him in the lobby.

  Much to my surprise, Sam (his first in charge) and Roger (the head of the service department) were waiting there with Barry. It was great to see all of them and I appreciated their support.

  We went up to see Althea who was of course in the same position. I said to Barry, “This is my wife.” I broke down and started to cry. The sobs came and I took a breath. Barry reached over to me supporting me by my shoulder.

  “She’ll be fine,” he said. “She’s strong like you.”

  “Would you join me in prayer?” I asked knowing that Barry had a great connection with God.

  “I always have time to pray,” he replied and led the four of us as we all joined hands.

  When it was over, Sam said to me, “Don’t worry about coming back to work. This is your job now. Take as long as you need and get your wife back to health.”

  Whew! I was overwhelmed by their kindness. This was the one issue I tried to figure out how I would juggle, and it was solved for me without any effort. I offered to work from my laptop while visiting Althea, but Sam was insistent. “No,” he said, “Just be here for Althea. Don’t worry about anything.”

  I wished them goodbye and waved from Althea’s bedside as they left. Leaning over to her I said, “Althea. Barry and Sam just told me I could stay here as long as I needed to. I’ll be able to be with you the whole time.”

  She squeezed my thumb really hard this time, much harder than before. I took this as several signs in that she was getting better and she was relieved knowing I would not leave her. This single squeeze spoke volumes about her emotional and mental state. She was much more aware than one would casually suspect. Her body language said she was unable to communicate, but this simple squeeze of my hand screamed otherwise.

  I leaned over and hugged her, putting her hand around my back and holding it there as I gently rested my breast against hers. I kissed her cheek and let go of her hand. It flopped back down on the bed and I set it next to her so she would be comfortable.

  I read to her some more and talked about the bench again describing in detail the roses that were intricately cast into the back and arms. I talked about the blueness in the sky, the view of the street with birds in the cedar trees, and the flower boxes against the bathroom window. I described the mocking birds chirping on the rooftop and the smell of the coffee. I don’t know if she heard me, but I just kept rambling on about the home she loved. Her breathing was steady and the monitoring machines beeped away.

  My phone rang again; it was Jonathan. He was in the lobby so I found the familiar elevator and made my way down to the first floor.

  Jonathan looked good standing there in the typical Floridian business attire—a golf shirt, khaki pants, comfortable boat shoes, and sun glasses. It was good to see him again. As he approached, he greeted me with that Mona Lisa smile for which he is so well known.

  “How are you?” he said as our hands met.

  “Fine, my friend. How are you?” I responded. “Are things going well at the office?”

  Guys like to chat about work because it’s safe and we don’t have to get into our feelings. We bantered back and forth about baseball as we made our way to the cafeteria finding a nice place under a tree in the adjoining courtyard.

  “So bring me up to date. What all happened?” he inquired.

  I retold the story of how I found Althea on the couch and relayed her current status. “She’s doing amazingly well considering that two days ago she was totally unresponsive.”

  “That’s great!” he replied.

  “Would you like to see her?”

  “Sure, if it’s OK. I mean…is she strong enough?”

  “She’s asleep most of the time so it’s really not an issue. I’m sure she’ll know you’re there and I’d appreciate it too.”

  We finished the delicious deli sandwiches and returned to Althea’s bedside.

  “She squeezes my hand every now and then, sometimes in response to what I say.”

  “Wow, I didn’t expect that. Isn’t she sedated?”

  “Yes, at least for these first two days. I guess they don’t want her to move too much until the piece of skull reattaches itself properly underneath those bandages.”

  We parted after a few more minutes and the tapping of Jonathan’s shoes down the corridor faded quickly into the background noise. I settled into a routine of bathing Althea, and then thought of something else I could do.

  Seeing her essentially motionless now for many hours, I thought exercising her would be helpful. This would minimize muscle atrophy and give her the feeling of touch that she so loved.

  I started a brief regime of stretches, especially with her left arm, the one that was immobile. I pulled on her muscles noting the resistance and stopped when the limit to her range of motion was reached. Although I stopped the stretch at this point, I did not relax the muscle. Rather, I held it there and started talking to Althea saying, “There. That’s a good stretch. Let’s hold that for just a little while.”

  I repeated this to her arms, legs, fingers, wrists, ankles, and anything else that would move including her neck. I just wanted her to stay limber and keep the struggle to regain full movement to a minimum.

  Now, I have five things I can do regularly: singing, reading, talking, bathing, and exercising. I could work out a routine of some sort, at least choosing one of these five from time to time. It would be a long road for her recovery, and I wanted to find even more ways to bring change into her life.

  Althea slept almost the entire evening. When not asleep, she did not open her eyes or speak, so I was never really sure when or if she was awake.

  As I was about to leave, I sang her favorite Native American Sundance song. I watched the respiration monitor and her breathing slowed to sixteen breaths per minute. As soon as I stopped singing, her breathing returned to twenty two. This was yet another affirmation that she was aware of what I was doing.

  I left for home at nine o’clock. Saying goodbye was a little easier today than before. I felt like she was well on the way to a good recovery, and felt great about her responsiveness to my efforts.

  When I got home, I held my pipe bag close to my heart and prayed sincerely, asking the Creator for her complete curing. I felt like my prayers disappeared into the universe and releasing them, I sat down and made some prayer ties.

  Native Americans use prayer ties to hold the intent of a prayer in a religious icon. Prayer ties are used in all high ceremonies throughout their culture, especially in healing ceremonies. I decided to make several for her bed and her room, and tomorrow I would hang them in place.

  It was late and I needed my rest so I could be at my best tomorrow. Just before I fell asleep, I thought about when I could get my hair cut off; I would have to do this soon. I let it all go feeling my tense muscles totally relax. Once I did, I fell fast asleep.

  Chapter 5 — February 23, 2008 — Day 3

  * * *

  Althea launched our adventures into Native American spirituality while working on her Bachelor’s degree at Metro State University. She took a class in Limit Testing in which there was a challenging option to engage in a real-life experience. Of course Althea jumped at the chance of embracing such a
challenge, so one day I found myself helping her pack up our car for a trip to Moab, Utah. Here in the picturesque LaSalle Mountains under the guidance of a trained professor, she joined with several other members of her class who would—as a group—perform a modified version of the Native American Vision Quest. While this particular ceremony was neither authentic nor traditional, it used many of the same methods to connect with your personal higher power.

  Instructors, supporters, and participants all hiked together to a base camp several miles from the last road. Carrying everything they needed, these wide-eyed hopeful people established a tiny community of tents surrounded by trees at the bend in a small stream. Everyone rallied in a common focus under the guidance of the professor.

  These Limit-testing novices ventured even higher into the mountains, each finding isolated places for themselves to stay. These cramped hand-picked spaces, just large enough to hold little more than a sleeping bag, is where they would spend the next three days.

  During this time, what went on inside their space was entirely up to that person. Typically, people contemplated, prayed, meditated, and sang, but the only guidelines the professor shared were to stay spiritually centered. “Stay connected to your higher power in the best way and for as long as you can,” he advised.

  In one of the preparatory ceremonies, each person imagined what their funeral would be like. Hand-written letters, addressed to family and friends, described their deaths and whatever parting words needed to be said. Then, in a healing burning bowl ceremony, these letters were tossed into the bowl and consumed by the flames symbolically releasing those issues and memories that no longer served them.

  Last minute instructions on safety and communication while maintaining privacy were reviewed by the professor, and with that, all were ready to begin. Armed with a bottle of water, sleeping bag, and a journal, Althea headed off into the wilderness searching for her chosen space.

  Using rocks to mark out her Questing area, Althea stepped over these rocks and settled in to her spot overlooking a clear mountain pond. Framed by magnificent Aspen trees and tall Lodge Pole Pines, the stillness of the water reflected the peace that soon filled her soul in the serenity of this place.

  As darkness grew, Althea laid down in her sleeping bag succumbing finally to her long chants. Through the flickering leaves, stars twinkled brightly above bringing the vastness of the sky to her surroundings. Twigs snapped and leaves rustled as faint footsteps approached her space. Curiously squeamish, a nocturnal visitor cautiously surveyed this new element in its own backyard. Sniffing the ground nearby, the timid creature soon seized the nerve to approach the uninvited guest. Advancing and retreating, the sniffing nose crept closer and closer to where Althea lay. In a moment, the sniffing nose crossed the rock perimeter poising itself at her feet. Staying motionless observing rather than reacting to the skulking visitor, Althea’s heightened senses honed in to the precise position of this restless renegade.

  New rustling sounds appeared and the noisy nose ambled along her right side. Pausing for a moment or two at various spots, it finally reached her head. A warm wisp of air wiggled her top hairs. Then, a single sniff quite close to her ear was followed by total silence. Moments passed without a sound and Althea began to wonder if her visitor had gone its way. The wind rustled in the trees winding its way around the pond; tranquility returned again to her Questing area. Pulsing in her ears, her heartbeat grew louder with each passing moment as calm gradually returned to her resting body.

  “Ewe!” Althea yelled suddenly. “Ewe! Ewe!” Her hands reached up from inside her bag and up to her ear. “Ewe!” she repeated in disgust wiping the sprayed snot from her hair and chin. Her visitor had taken one last quick sniff and then like a dog smelling red pepper abruptly sneezed onto her right ear, then darted off into the night.

  Sitting up and wiping herself down, Althea scanned the underbrush for signs of this cowering creature. I’m sure it’s still here… she thought to herself, …and I need to stand my ground. Her sleeve against her cheek, Althea rubbed it down to her chin cleaning off the creature’s mark. It was just letting me know I was squatting in its backyard.

  The next night, Althea heard her visitor return again rustling the leaves off in the forest. But this time it kept its distance, just checking up on her on its regular rounds. Too large to be a fox and too small to be a wolf, Althea presumed this mischievous visitor to be a Coyote. Coyote’s are considered by Native Americans to be tricksters, animals who enjoy mischief and fun. Coming into her sacred space was not a coincidence and the meaning of its presence must be given special consideration. Althea’s personality was much like that of the trickster where she too enjoyed playfulness and mischief. Last night, her own trickster personality was blessed by the spray from another trickster’s nose.

  Althea’s Limit Test was indeed life altering. Once returning home, she searched for a more traditional form of Vision Questing from the one to which she was just introduced. She had found something that resonated in her soul and she wanted to repeat this experience again and again. On this outing on a hillside deep in the LaSalle Mountains of Utah, she found a spiritual connection unlike any other.

  Her amazing experience was still emblazed deep within her, her life forever changed. Her challenge now was to fit back into this reality looming just outside her window and hold firmly onto this connection. She needed to find a way to remember this beauty, this peace, this feeling of oneness with everything. She needed to take that with her through every moment of every day for the rest of her life—and she did.

  Life changing experiences stay with you, especially when they are obtained during intense spiritual moments. With time, Native American ceremonies and beliefs became a standard way of worship in both our lives. Vision Quests continued to cross our spiritual paths, one each year for the next seven years. Together, we grew in spiritual conviction in the Native American tradition. We are eternally grateful to those teachers who helped us on our path and to the Creator who wisely gave us these life changing experiences. We carry these ancient earth-based lessons and resulting wisdom in our hearts and lives to this very day.

  I arose early to make some tobacco ties while praying for Althea’s complete curing and healing. Made from red cloth and kite string, this chain of prayers is another Native American ritual—much like prayer beads—that helps one focus. I made one string for above her head, others for the corners of her bed, and more for over the doorway. I put them into my elk skin medicine bag, gathered my sacred ceremonial pipe, put them all in the car, and headed off to the hospital. I drove slowly today taking my time to get there and arrived at about eight A.M. Gathering the sacred items, I went up to her room.

  I found her asleep again looking like an angel, just resting peacefully in much the same position as I left her last night. She had fresh sheets and a new stiff gown so I knew the staff had worked with her through the night. I hung my medicine bag on the I.V. pole and lifting her hand I put my ceremonial pipe under her right arm. She felt the soft deerskin fringe and beadwork against her skin. Without opening her eyes she took her hand and cradled it, pulling it towards her stomach until it came to rest directly on top of her belly. I straightened out the long fringe and then turned to the task of properly place the other sacred items around her.

  Althea in ICU, February 23, 2008

  I removed some sweet grass from the bag. Sweet grass is an aromatic, incense-like dried grass that grows in Canada. Sweet grass is believed to ward off evil spirits and negative energy much like Frankincense is used in other churches to do the same. I spent most of the day reading to her from several books and talking about the things I had read. I sang many Native American songs to her and when I finished the last of seven verses of the Healing Song, Althea opened her eyes!

  She saw me and squeezed my thumb tightly. I was simultaneously breathless and exhilarated! Holy cow! I thought. My eyes bulged from their sockets in disbelief. I talked to her with tears streaming down my cheeks, huggin
g her and kissing her hand. Never had any glance or stare from Althea before this moment made such a mesmerizing and electrifying feeling flow though my veins.

  Althea looked straight at me with those beautiful hazel green eyes and told me volumes of words in just an instant without uttering a sound. This single gaze meant everything to me knowing that right after singing the Healing Song she awoke—and she recognized me!

  Could this be coincidence? Possibly, to those who believe in coincidence. But I do not. I believe everything happens for a reason. I do know that most people who survive this surgery don’t wake up for several weeks, much less squeeze someone’s thumb a few hours after getting out of the recovery room. I do know that something is very different about Althea’s recovery from such a devastating injury, and I wanted to witness every moment of it firsthand.