Althea: A Story of Love

by Philip Rastocny

  Unaware of this incident and instantly changing the mood in the room, the Speech Therapist strolled in armed with cheat-sheets of standard words, pictures, and a complete alphabet. Looking at me she said, “I brought these in to help you understand what Althea was mouthing. She can point to the pictures, words, and letters to let you know what’s on her mind.”

  Althea looked at the papers, set them down on the table, and quickly dismissed them without even giving them a try. She had a look about her like when she was being forced into doing something she did not want to do. Maybe she just didn’t want to communicate in this way?

  Handing her a clip board with a pen and paper, the therapist recovered by asking, “Do you think you could write down what you want?”

  Althea grabbed the two and began to write. Her hand still trembled uncontrollably and after a while she managed to wriggle out the phrase:

  Althea’s Second Scribbles

  I immediately recognized the cryptic phrase and understood precisely what it is she wanted. I leaned down and playfully asked her, “Do you want a noodle bowl?”

  Without hesitation, Althea nodded affirming she was hungry for her most favorite of all meals, a Vietnamese Noodle bowl. Althea had taken this recipe and modified it from using chicken, pork, beef, or shrimp to one that used ground turkey. She loved boiling the rice noodles and adding vegetables and whatever was around concocting her latest variation to this simple dish. Intimately knowing Althea’s desires led me to an instant recognition of her wishes—even from a cryptic two-word clue.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I responded thinking there may be a Vietnamese restaurant nearby.

  Amazed by our communication, the therapist added, “That’s a good one. I would have never guessed that is what she wrote. You two are in tune with each other.”

  Althea and the Speech Therapist worked together for about thirty minutes after which Althea got tired. The therapist left saying, “Practice your writing and try working with these pictures. I will see you again tomorrow.”

  Althea mouthed “OK” and watched her walk out or the room.

  At about four thirty P.M., the Respiratory Physician arrived and came up to me abruptly with little introduction. “We must do this test to assure she is swallowing properly.” he blurted out.

  “I understand your need to verify this, but she has had radiation treatment for cancer at which time she received the maximum amount of radiation her body could take. You must find another way,” I said calmly.

  “There is no other way,” he retorted back glaring at me as if I had lost my mind.

  “Then I suggest you talk with Doctor DeWeese about this matter and get back with us.”

  This physician too turned and walked out of the door as the nurse had done earlier rather displeased with my unyielding position.

  Without understanding Althea’s complete history, without having an advocate present to monitor her treatment, common procedures can be prescribed that could endanger her physical well being. This physician, although strongly resenting me in challenging his authority, may have done more long-term harm by satisfying his short-term goal of keeping her safe.

  Human behavior is like this when the ego gets involved. Questioning someone in authority, especially when they are convinced they are right, is an uncomfortable situation to be in and one that must be dealt with firmly, but lovingly. In such situations, anger and resentment play no part in obtaining a solution. Like the pilot of the helicopter in the Brooksville Emergency room using guilt to manipulate my decision of not allowing Althea to fly to this hospital, standing firm may have saved her life. Here again with this respiratory physician, standing firm did more than just create bad feelings between us, it saved Althea from unnecessary exposure to radiation that could threaten her future well being.

  Shortly thereafter, Dr. DeWeese showed up with a cup of water. “See if you can drink this, Althea.” Handing her the cup, he glanced over to me and said, “Has she had any problems drinking?”

  “No. She has been drinking coffee for about a week and eating Cheetos for a few days now with no problems whatsoever.”

  “I’ll put her on some Jell-O tonight and see what happens. I believe she will be fine. We don’t want to give her any radiation she doesn’t need,” he said confidently.

  Althea’s eyes grew wide as she heard him say these words. She realized this doctor listened and heard her concern. Easily bringing the cup to her lips, she gulped the water down without a problem, drinking the last few drops and sucking at the remnants. As requested, she wanted to make sure she drank the whole thing.

  Watching her closely while she drank, Dr. DeWeese took the cup from her and said, “Althea, thank you! You just helped me win a bet with the Respiratory Physician.”

  Turning to me he continued, “Remember, she hasn’t really swallowed anything in two weeks so we must be cautious.”

  “I understand,” reading into these words what must have transpired between the two physicians during their discussion. “I had a feeling she would be fine.”

  “See you tomorrow Althea. We’ll get you out of here and into a normal room.” And with that, Dr. DeWeese strolled off through the door with a devilish smile rubbing his hands together. I imagine he couldn’t wait to see the expression on the face of the Respiratory Physician when he cashed in on his bet.

  “You’re moving to another room tomorrow,” I said to her with excitement streaming from my voice and waving my arms in the air.

  Althea responded with a smile clapping her hands together too. She was tired of this scenery and wanted a change. The new room would at least give that to her.

  At nine o’clock, I started to leave for home. As we were saying our goodbyes, Althea grabbed my arm and playfully would not let go. This was a game she played with me many times before as I would rise from an embrace feeling a tug on my neck or arm. Then she pulled me back down and hugged me close to her. Her arms wrapped tightly around my neck and she covered my cheek with kisses.

  I laughed knowing it would be a while until I could leave, but I smiled seeing Althea as playful as she was. This felt wondrous to play with my wife. I grinned and joked like I was trying to escape, but each time she grabbed a hold of me even harder and pulled me tighter to her cheek. We laughed together and I said to her, “I love you. I’m so glad you are coming back to me.”

  We played this game of hanging on to each other for another five minutes or so, and then we again said our goodbyes. Walking out to the car, I felt elated about the things that happened today. And tomorrow brings the new room and the new nurses. We became fond of the staff in the ICU. They helped her in so many ways and we will miss them. These are good, caring folks.

  Chapter 15 — March 4, 2008 — Day 13

  * * *

  Our camping trips began with modest backpacks and sleeping bags. Hiking to distant locations with everything you need for a two or three day outing is no small feat. Our internal-frame backpacks were stuffed with food, clothes, cooking gear, and water. Bedrolls, sleeping bags, jackets, and a tent hung outside strapped to the top and bottom, or dangling off the sides. Looking like a large bumble bee, Althea’s bright yellow and black North Face pack had a custom zipper sewed down the front so she could easily find things inside.

  My well-used forest green Lowe Alpine pack carried most of the heavier items. Recycled from another backpacker, this watertight rubberized wonder traveled with us to the furthest reaches of our outdoor adventures.

  Our sights were always on unusual places, far from mainstream campers. Trekking to distant valleys, along small winding mountain streams, up into deep dense virgin forests, our spirits were always high with the sights and sounds of nature few experience firsthand.

  As our youth waned, sleeping in puddles and awaking to deep snows became less and less attractive to us, so one day we dried out our wet down bags for the last time and bought a used popup trailer.

  This small, self contained vehicle kept us off of the groun
d providing amenities we could only imagine when twenty miles from civilization. Complete with a small refrigerator, propane stove, and even a heater, this utilitarian vehicle brought most of the comforts of home with us anywhere we went. Fishing, something we did in moderation, became a focus of our weekend trips. Mastering Colorado stream and high mountain lake fishing provided us with hours of entertainment and great meals. While not wanting to compromise on isolation, we hooked the camper up to our full-sized Jeep Wagoneer and headed out for some serious off-road adventures.

  While driving through southern Wyoming on a long stretch of deserted highway, Althea abruptly spun the steering wheel to the right and glanced over at me saying, “Let’s turn off here and see where it goes.” Not having any maps of the area, I had no idea where we were or where we were going. Grinning in her spunky manner, we charged ahead on a new adventure and bounced down the dusty dirt road.

  We were on a beautiful wide valley that followed a small meandering stream. Winding our way deep into the outback, our trailer bounced behind us through the deep ruts. We drove for an hour through meadows, over decomposed rock fields, and then up a switchback road.

  We pulled off in a sharp bend and got out of the car. The valley below stretched on for miles winding further east without a sign of civilization anywhere. Spotty patches of Aspen trees wove through the thick green meadows shimmering brilliantly in the afternoon sun. The tree line was a long way up and there were no billboards, fences, or signs of civilization. It was perfect.

  The road continued to climb in front of us and disappeared over a ledge about two miles ahead. The winds were brisk and the air cool as we climbed back into the car driving further into the wilderness. Cresting the ledge, we came across a high mountain meadow lined with Aspen trees, wild flowers, and butterflies. We paused here too taking in the fresh air and watching the butterflies flit about. It was peaceful and there was only one set of tracks on this old road that looked more like a hunting trail or fire road than a back forest access road.

  The ground was hard and the light good so we headed off once again, higher into this magnificent mountain meadow. Althea rounded a curve and the road straightened out into a long, narrow valley. The sides of the valley sloped gently upward getting steeper further away from the road. We had driven now for almost two hours without passing a single soul and we were looking for a place that we might spend the night.

  This high meadow was wetter than the others and the road ahead looked quite muddy. The car tracks we were following made deep ruts into the belly of the valley and I had a feeling that Althea wanted to get dirty. She stopped as I spotted some puddles in the bottom of the ruts and flipped the car into four-wheel drive. She grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, put the car into gear, and glanced at me with that mischievous look in her eyes. This was going to be good.

  Romping on the accelerator, the car lurched forward and soon we were clipping along at about twenty miles per hour. Our front wheels hit the mud and made us swerve left and right. It felt like we were slipping more sideways than moving forward, and then the mud started to fly. Huge chunks of thick brown mud flew by the windows as the engine roared and the car slowed. Maintaining speed, Althea feathered the throttle slowing the full four-wheel spin and keeping control of our direction. Swerving the steering wheel back and forth, dragging a six hundred pound trailer through six inches of fresh mud began to take its toll on our forward progress.

  The car slowed again and the trailer swerved back and forth behind us. We were still about fifty yards from the end of the mud patch and steadily losing speed. Althea yanked the steering wheel to the left to reach a less muddy patch and the tires grabbed what little firm ground they could find. The engine strained under the added weight of the trailer and soon the throttle found its way to the floor.

  Mud exploded all around us with huge clumps landing on the windshield and hood, and I started to wonder if we would ever reach the end. I began to think if I had brought the right equipment along to free us from such a goopy place, and then the wheels once again caught a drier patch. Launching us forward, we hung on bouncing, twisting, and sliding along. The trailer jerked against the hitch banging loudly as it did. More mud flew and then, we were out.

  We reached dry ground just as the last bit of forward momentum failed and the front wheels pulled us from an otherwise mired ending. Althea shouted, “Whoopee! Let’s do that again!” laughing and slapping the steering wheel.

  “Let’s not and just find a dryer place to spend the night,” I replied half scared out of my wits!

  Althea reluctantly agreed and we drove calmly out of this narrow valley and out toward an expansive ledge. The road wound to the right but Althea’s attention was to the edge of the ledge in front of us. The winds were exceptionally high here, no doubt facing west, making the short thin grass wiggle all the way down to the ground. Small scrub flowers even shivered under the relentless wind flipping around against the ground like the pivoting head of a rag doll.

  Althea screamed, “Look at that! Over there by the ledge!”

  She spotted a young bald eagle poised on top of a small rock outcropping watching the valley below for a careless rabbit or small rodent. Its eyes were trained on the sprawling valley not really paying any attention to us in our approaching vehicle. Althea stopped the car and started to slowly walk over to this magnificent bird. Getting within ten yards, this eagle became annoyed with Althea’s inconsiderate interruption, spread its wings, and effortlessly lifted off onto the rising thermal.

  As it departed, a puff of feathers flew from its underbelly and started bouncing along the ground. Althea scampered to catch them yelling to me, “Help me. Catch what you can.”

  These small feathers scooted quickly across the low grass faster than she could catch up with them. I headed off in a direction that might cross their randomly bouncing path and dove to the ground hoping to stop just one. Althea managed to grab one snagged against a sprig of weed and I scooped one or two smaller ones up in my mad dash.

  With our treasures in hand, we walked back to the car and surveyed the precious bounty. Althea gathered them all up, wrapped them in a red cloth, and put them on the dashboard. She grabbed her ceremonial pipe and stepped back outside into the stiff breeze. Giving thanks, she prayed and thanked the spirit of this bird for the gifts it gave to her. She left a tobacco offering near the outcropping where the bird sat and then came back to the car.

  Eagle Feather

  The adrenalin rush of nearly getting stuck in deep, wet mud was instantly replaced by the excitement of scooping up eagle feathers in a brisk mountain meadow. The only feelings that remained were that of extreme gratitude.

  Below is an email I sent during my morning journaling ritual.

  Hi everyone,

  First, Althea is well, improving hourly, and moving out of ICU today. Thank you for your prayers and your gifts. Althea is grateful for your kindness. Please remember Althea is highly allergic to almost all flowers and is also gluten intolerant (no flour). As a suggestion in lieu of sending flowers and candy, she is an artist and sending her acrylic paints, brushes, and similar artist supplies would really help her spirits return. Any other personal connections you have to her in any form would of course be eagerly embraced. Please continue envisioning the bench next to our house, the two hawks, the coffee cups, and our toasting our love to each other in your daily prayers. I have enclosed a sketch I made that can help you recall our personal healing vision.

  Althea is a remarkable woman who still continues to amaze me and I would consider yesterday a true banner day. She spent over three hours sitting up in a chair after which she was pretty exhausted. Things are looking up and I continue to pray for a complete body, mind, and spirit curing/healing. Her right side is quite strong and her left a little challenged and getting stronger by the hour. At the beginning of the chair session, her left eye was pretty far off from being coordinated with her right, but at the end it was starting to track at times. Because of
this she sees double and deliberately closes the left eye. Short-term memory from one waking episode to another is also improving and she is on ‘solid’ food (if you call clear fluids, limp fish, and a sort of pudding solid). More substantial food will come later this week to her anxiously anticipating stomach. When I asked her what she wanted to eat she mouthed, “A Vietnamese noodle bowl,” her most favorite dish. So her tastes have not changed at all.

  She is still the prankster she always was, even at these times. She had a hold of my hand, I told her I had to go to the rest room, and of course she squeezed my hand tighter chaining me to her bedside. Only after three additional requests and another hour did she finally let go. I must admit I didn’t want to leave even after she released me. My heart has become more attached to her than it ever has been in all of our years of marriage. My heart came alive once again and re-established this incredible love link to my soul mate. For this I am truly grateful.