After a few more moments of silence, I suggested, “Shall we go downstairs and eat?”
“Same place?” he replied.
“Yes. I enjoy getting away there. It’s outdoors and I can unwind.”
Without further delay, we said our goodbyes to Althea. I kissed her, told her that I loved her, and we headed off down the hall.
As we passed the nurse’s desk, I glanced to my right I saw a new person, an older man, thin and weak, lying in a freshly made bed with nurses buzzing about making him as comfortable as they could. He was unconscious, very thin with gray hair and dark brown skin. It seemed strange that none of his family was by his side and I wondered if he knew they were missing. I thought to myself, He needs his family around to help him cure. I wonder where they are? I walked by just thinking about how glad I was to be with Althea in her time of need.
We found a spot in the courtyard at a small table with a bright yellow umbrella. The day was warm and the humidity high so the shade was welcome. I moved my chair under the umbrella as we opened up our sandwiches.
“She appears to have leveled off in her recovery,” I said unwrapping the sandwich. I wanted to connect with Jonathan today more than ever. In our interactions with family, we usually conversed at a superficial level and said little about how we truly felt towards each other. I felt like now was an opportunity to have a serious interaction with someone I cared for deeply.
“Is she getting better?” he inquired.
“She is not any worse but she hasn’t coughed up any phlegm yet. I was hoping yesterday she could find the strength to do this but that never happened nor has she coughed today.”
Jonathan took a bite of his sandwich as I recapped the events from his last visit. His eyes were focused on me as was his complete attention. He was relieved to know the attending physicians had things well in hand as indeed they did.
I then steered the direction of our conversation to one I felt like I needed to. “Jonathan, I really appreciate you coming here and being with me. It has been difficult with everyone so far away and I wanted you to know I am glad you are here.”
“That’s what family is all about,” he replied with a grin glancing at me from the corner of his eye.
“Seriously, it means a lot to me.”
We ate our sandwiches and—like guys do—we reverted to talking about his job. He travels a lot auditing client books for large companies and is responsible for most of central and northern Florida. “I’ll be in town for a while so just call me if you need anything,” he offered.
We chatted about his parents and what his plans were for the future. I tried to find out about his goals but they seemed somewhat uncertain, so we talked more small talk and before I knew it, he had to go. “I enjoy having lunch with you, Jonathan. If you can, I would like to do this again,” I said in closing.
We said our goodbyes and I went back up to Althea’s room. I pulled out the prayer tie materials from my bag and started saying more prayers. In prayerful medication, I started unconsciously humming and then broke into song. Althea danced at seven Lakota Sun Dances over seven consecutive years, so I sang her favorite Sun Dance song to her while making these ties. I had not planned on doing this, but as I began the meditation and prayers, the words and melody just spontaneously came out. I sang seven complete verses.
The Sun Dance is a high ceremony of the Lakota traditionally conducted during the summer months. Here, people make a commitment to dance and pray all day from sunrise to sunset. The number of days a person dances varies, but Althea usually committed to dance between two and three days. People typically fast during their whole commitment. Althea respected the tradition and took water only at night.
Sun dancing is one of the most difficult spiritual demonstrations I have ever witnessed. People come from far and wide to attend these ceremonies beginning with a week-long Spiritual Encampment. Here, preparations are made by attendees who volunteer to build arbors for observers, gather wild sage to spread around the dance circle, and any other tasks menial required for this event to be successful. Unlike a Vision Quest that is about you, the Sun Dance is usually about others.
As I sang this song and made the ties, I recalled one dance near Kyle, South Dakota on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. On the second day of her dance, the temperature reached one hundred eighteen degrees. I remembered how the steady sounds of the drums honoring the old Spiritual Leader of the Teton Sioux touched my soul. To see people dance four days under such conditions and do so with smiles on their faces right up to the end is something to behold. I am sure that singing this song to her brought back similar memories of the respect she gained from the observers, organizers, and from me. I was so proud of her then and I am even more proud of her now.
I found some sweet grass in my pipe bag and placed it above her head since someone inadvertently threw out the other piece. Standing back I scanned her bedside thinking her sacred area was now complete in time for her tracheotomy. There were ties above the door, around her bedrails, draping over the tops of the monitors, along her window sill, four large ties on the corners of her bed, and now the sweet grass ribbon on the pillow above her head. As she laid there clutching her pipe bag, all was ready for her physical, spiritual, and emotional healing to begin.
The doctor arrived at about six P.M. with two others. One of these two—apparently a student—performed the procedure under his direction. It was over before I returned from the rest room down the hall, so I went back in to admire their work. Althea was breathing so calmly and so evenly on the ventilator. This was the first time in thirty seven years I heard her breathe like this. I was so emotionally moved I could hardly stand up.
Another nurse was still there suctioning out her airway and monitoring her condition. He suctioned out her lungs and sinus and got over 200ccs of fluid. That brought the total suctioned from her to six tenths of a liter, a substantial amount in one treatment.
Seeing her lips closed made me instinctively kiss her as if I was giving her a morning embrace. They felt so warm and soft against mine and I was overwhelmed by how much love I felt for her. Our love bounced back and forth from each of our hearts right through our lips. I hugged her as best I could, pressing my chest against hers while wrapping my arm around her waist. Under sedation now, she wasn’t able to react, but I knew she felt my kiss. Stroking her hair, I gazed into her closed eyes and said, “Althea. I’m right here honey.” I slipped my thumb into her right hand and gently squeezed her fingers. “I know you can hear me and I want you to know I love you. You have a tube in your throat to help you breathe and you look great. Sleep peacefully now, my love, and allow your breathing to be the easiest it has ever been.”
I kissed her tenderly on her cheek and hand. Sitting quietly with her, I talked about how easily she was breathing and how smooth her lungs sounded. The faint beeps from the monitors showed she was truly at rest. Her pulse was slow and steady, her respirations regular and deep, her oxygen level excellent, and her body language telegraphed to me she was calm. Holding her hand, I said some prayers aloud to the Creator in gratitude for giving the staff the talents to perform this procedure.
“Althea,” I said in a hushed voice almost as a whisper. “I am going to dinner now so sleep soundly while I am gone and invite the good healing Spirits to you to help your curing and healing.”
I kissed her one last time on her hand as my thumb slip from it. Placing her hand carefully back down onto the bedside, I turned to the doorway. She was resting and out of danger, and I felt like a huge hurdle in her healing had been overcome. I saw all of the prayer ties surrounding her and her nurse attending to her every need. Pausing at the doorway, I felt relieved to see all of this come together, and then walked down the hall and out to my car for a late dinner.
I ate at a Thai restaurant down the street and had a relaxing time sipping tea and eating with chop sticks. Curry is a favorite of mine and I appreciated time alone to get my mind off of Althea’s condition. This was a nice b
ut brief break. It was a celebration of achievement—a milestone in her recovery—and I was again grateful for all of those who had helped her recover. Recalling some of the events of the past few days—the ambulance ride, the doctor who performed the surgery, the ICU nurses providing the quality care they did, and now the tracheotomy—I was overwhelmed by how everything just fell into place. There was truly no coincidence that all had happened as it did, and I was grateful for it. I raised my tea cup to the heavens and toasted the Creator one more time in thanks, acknowledging all of my relations in helping me to be who I was. Round one was over and now round two begins.
I drove back to the hospital to check in on her before going to Kimberly and John’s for the evening. Althea was less sedated and was ecstatic to see me. She too felt the huge difference in her physiology and her spirits were soaring. Almost beside herself, she was more conscious and aware than she had been at any time since her injury. I saw the twinkle in her eyes return along with the broad smile on her face. Her body appeared to literally be aflame in love and light. There was a huge energy shift from struggling to curing, much like when a fever breaks from a bad cold. This was quite a moment and I felt truly blessed.
She asked for the homeopathic remedy again with her cute little tongue movement. With the nursing desk watching closely, I maneuvered my way around her after some distracting gestures. It was very hard for me to leave right now so I stayed another half an hour before finally saying goodnight. Holding her hand, she squeezed it with renewed vigor and I was thrilled. Hope filled my spirit and I once again soared into the feelings of optimism and thanksgiving.
Although I did not realize it at the time, it was now seven days since her stoke. The numbers one, three, four, and seven are sacred numbers to most religions, including Native Americans. The coincidence of today being the seventh day was really no coincidence at all. But it was yet one more spiritual affirmation among the many that had already occurred.
Chapter 10 — February 28, 2008 — Day 8
* * *
One weekend shortly after being married, we loaded up the camping gear into our 1970 Plymouth Duster and drove off to Colorado. Althea wanted this to be a pure adventure so I only briefly glanced at a map getting a vague idea of where we wanted to go. Leaving Oklahoma City without a real plan of what to see, we drove first to Amarillo, Texas, and then northwest eventually crossing over Raton pass.
As the miles sped by, our smiles and excitement grew as the scenery changed from hot flat fields with thin brown grasses to large rolling hills covered with deep green vegetation. Clear and cool blue skies with cottony white clouds drifted over the treetops and the rounded hills were replaced with rugged peaks. Somewhere along the way north we veered off the main highway and headed west on an inviting road into these regal mountains. Dense stands of tall evergreens stood along the hillsides like crowds of people gathering at an entrance waiting for an event to begin. Everywhere you looked massive trees rose majestically into the air regardless of the terrain. Some grew bordering meadows, others at the edge of cliffs, and still more along rocky slopes clinging to what little earth could be found. Some grew horizontally out of ledges on sheer vertical faces and others were just small seedlings scattered on the pine-needle floor finding their first rays of sunlight. From a distance, these stately trees looked like a broad green carpet blanketing every square inch of every mountain as far as the eye could see. It was an amazing sight and the scent of fresh mountain air was absolutely breathtaking.
After a tedious twelve-hour drive but long before dark, we decided to find a place to camp. While winding westward through a narrow canyon, we turned north onto an unmarked one-lane dirt road and ventured into the wilderness. There were no homes, no signs, no fences, no electrical power poles, and no other cars, something we weren’t used to. After about a half an hour of navigating around washed out segments of road and riding on top of the ridges caused from deep ruts, we pulled well off the path into a stand of thin trees and pitched our tent.
We made a small fire, ate dinner, sang songs, and listening to the burning wood snap in the still early evening air. Our dog, Crash, a Basset-Beagle mix didn’t venture far from the camp and as sun began to fade he sat down with us next to the campfire. The evening was calm and warm for early fall with only a light chill in the sweet smelling air. It was peaceful and serene and being tired from the long drive we put out the fire, stowed the food and trash, and slipped into our bags for a good night’s sleep.
We had just closed our eyes when we heard thrashing in the woods just over the small hill next to our tent. Sounding like something had wandered into a thicket and became stuck amongst the brambles, a groaning roar echoed through the trees. It was a bear and it was close! Crash started to growl and Althea snatched his snout in her hand clamping his jaw gently but firmly together. She looked Crash in his eyes and said sternly to him, “Shhh! Quiet!” making sure his bark wouldn’t attract attention to the bellowing beast.
The bear was about fifty yards away now and we had only moments to get to safety. We scrambled instantly to our feet tossing on our coats and shoes as fast as we could.
“Run for the car!” I whispered.
Althea instinctively grabbed the dog and the day packs and dashed off for the car. Without another word I threw everything else into the tent, folded it up into a ball, and followed close behind her. Opening the trunk, I stuffed everything into it and then lunged into the driver’s seat slamming the door behind me as the growling grew louder and closer.
As I started the engine, we sped off again down the winding dirt road and further into the thick forest. We looked at each other with wide eyes and laughing nervously realizing how close of an encounter we had just had. We were lucky—or were we?
Panting from the adrenaline surge, we drove again for a short while eventually finding a broad valley revealing a secluded dude ranch. It was still twilight and the yellow lights in the cabin shone brightly against the dark shadows in the small parking lot. As we drove up, a tall thin woman appeared from inside.
It was quite dark now and I couldn’t make out much of what this woman looked like. She had jeans on with a light colored long-sleeved shirt and with her shoulder-length hair she looked like a seasoned frontier woman capable of handling herself in any situation. Her cowboy boots clunked on the wooden porch as she grabbed the handrail and greeted us.
“Greetings!” she said warmly. “Do you folks need a place to stay?”
“Hello!” I replied enthusiastically. “Yes we do. We were just camping up the road and had a run in with a bear so we’re moving our camp somewhere else. Do you have any suggestions?”
“Drive a little further and you will come to a small lake on your right. Camp anywhere near there and enjoy yourselves. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
I thanked her and walked back to the car. Driving further down the road into a narrow canyon, a small stream gurgled on our right. It wasn’t long before this road entered another meadow and a lone tree appeared at the edge of a very long pond. The now dark sky was full of stars and we paused in awe at the blackness overhead. Without a moon, a ghostly glow cast across the valley and gave us little light to find a flat place to pitch our tent.
With the aid of our car’s headlights, we set up the tent close to this lone tree. In the faint starlight, we could see the road continued along the left edge of the pond winding further into the wilderness disappearing at its far end. Crash dashed about nose to the ground presumably sniffing for more signs of large animals. Finally feeling safe, we sat a while on a stump next to the pond gazing across into the darkness. Holding each other’s hands recalling our close encounter with the bear, this more serene stop dispelled our anxieties.
“Well that was quite a little adventure,” I said poking a stick into the soft ground.
“I am sure glad Crash didn’t bark,” Althea replied thankfully. “That bear probably smelled our food and was snooping around to see what leftovers it could find.”
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br /> “You’re probably right. I’m truly relieved we heard it and never saw it,” I said nervously. “I'm not sure I would have done if we were confronted with a bear face to face.”
“Well we didn’t have to, so don’t worry about it. Isn’t it pretty here?” Althea said deliberately changing the subject.
“Yes it is. This is a much better place to camp than where we were. The water is so calm with the scenic mountains gradually sliding down and touching its edge. The valley is so still you can hear frogs croaking all the way across the shore.”
We remained gazing at this mystical site until our dog tired from marking the area. Sitting there speechless in awe of the beauty, we just enjoyed the moment. Holding hands and snuggling together, our tired bones found refuge in our new campsite as the chill from the water floated over the shore.
Turning in for the night, we cuddled together in our sleeping bags with our dog at our feet. I remember sighing one last time and throwing my head back onto the pillow with the fresh smell of pine trees mingling with my fading thoughts.
Althea: A Story of Love Page 14
