Today is moving day. She will be moved out of ICU and to another, less critical care room. Physical therapy, speech therapy, and a lot of other care are scheduled to help her return her life to normal. While she cannot write very well, I am able to decipher her scribbling and interpret these somewhat cryptic messages. Today she will also receive a new tracheotomy valve that permits her to try to use her vocal cords and speak directly to me. It will be music to my ears to hear even her faintest whispers after such a prolonged silence.
She finally looked at all of the cards everyone sent and was able to read some of them. She still tires quickly, but know that by the end of this week she will have read and re-read all of your cards many times. Her spirits are inspiring and her attitude undaunted. She is truly something to behold in her command of her own recovery, healing, and curing. What actually happened—what caused her subdural hematoma—is still a mystery but she must have somehow bumped her head. That in combination with a new doctor-prescribed therapy of low-dose aspirin more than likely caused the problem. So there will be a few changes in the house to keep this from happening again like self-closing cabinet door hinges and of course discontinuing the low-dose aspirin.
Althea is not getting another X-ray. I had a significant discussion with the doctors who wanted to take one while watching her swallow. Nonsense! She already had Cheetos twice and Coffee three times and all is well. I am deeply concerned about radiation to her person after her cancer treatment and I will not permit it. After two days of struggling, insinuations, manipulation attempts, and guilt trips, today I gladly signed a release form giving her the right to eat solid food and relieving the hospital of liability. I saw a Bald Eagle fly within a few feet of her window as I was talking on the phone. I was so overwhelmed I could barely speak. This eagle reassured me all would be well and I was making the proper choices.
Physical Therapy came and put her in a chair. They went over some hand signals and more writing skills to get some of her basic needs met. Althea then wrote on paper that she wanted some milk—soy milk that is. So I drove to the nearby Wal-Mart and got some sweetened plain soy milk—along with some much needed socks and jeans for myself.
When I returned with the soy, Althea was still sitting up in the chair eating her first normal meal. Everyone in the nursing station was so excited and wondered if I would miss it. I said, “I have not missed anything she has been through yet; how could I miss this?” They all laughed. She was eating cottage cheese like it was her most favorite thing in the universe. She would take her fork, shovel a little cottage cheese, spear the spinach, stab into the mashed potatoes, and then put the whole thing into her mouth. Both eyes were wide open and her left eye still was a bit off from tracking correctly with her right. She drank some soy milk but really did not like the sugar. After not having anything substantial for days in her stomach, how can I blame her. I’ll bring her some unsweetened soy from home tomorrow.
It took a while for her to eat her meal with several pauses in between but she did extremely well and as she ate, she became more and more present. Physically weaker but stronger in spirit, she slumped back into the chair and took a break.
She rested for about twenty minutes and then started fiddling with the position of the table. She wanted it just so and could not get it to go where she thought it was best. I took away the tray and moved her feet so she could get closer. She then moved it out to her right not wanting to feel so boxed in. She motioned for the writing board and put it in its proper place (sort of like something the TV character Monk would do—could this be a new behavior?).
I asked for some playing cards and eventually the volunteer found some. She thanked me because she now knew how to get more in the future. I guess this request has never been made from ICU.
I spent another hour with her playing high-card draw and I won six to three; maybe my luck is changing from losing almost everything to her—finally!
Well, I will end this now and thank you all again for your support. Please continue your prayers and well wishes.
Love, Phil
Chapter 16 — March 5, 2008 — Day 14
* * *
Wisdom is far different than intellect. While intellect sparks ideas and brings about brilliant solutions, wisdom uses intellect as a springboard to find the deeper truth. Probing beyond superficial impressions of people, things, events, and situations, wisdom tempers knee-jerk reactions with a simple pause. Youth gains wisdom slowly by making and learning from mistakes. But unfortunately, too many youths never realize the importance of being wise and stumble along through life never experiencing its rewards. Typically tempered by greed or gain, wisdom is not always used and therefore does not always prevail.
Althea’s mother, Gertrude, shared some of the wisest advice any mother could give to her child before her wedding: “Don’t marry him expecting to change him.” Pondering the flaws and unusual habits in my character, Althea took her mother’s words seriously. She reviewed our courtship, conversations, interactions, and commitments finding issues in all of them both pro and con. With good reasons to marry me and similar reasons to back out, this created quite a dilemma. Knowing these things about Phil, should I or should I not marry him?
Althea is a brilliant person whose common sense far exceeds my own. Her ability to see things in a different light always amazes me. When it came to finding an unusual way to resolve her dilemma, she once again rose to the occasion and discovered an elegant solution to this particularly troubling issue.
Most nineteen-year old minds cannot conceive of a lifelong commitment; it is beyond their young imaginations. But Althea could easily grasp a commitment of twelve months. This was doable to her. After all, she had already committed to go to high school each year for three consecutive years and believed this commitment of marriage could be no different.
After our wedding and whirlwind honeymoon, Althea told me about her self-conceived resolution. We were somewhere on the road traveling to my parent’s home in Wisconsin when she sprung this condition of our marriage on me. One evening, after a particularly passionate romp in the hay, Althea turned to me as we started cuddling and said, “Phil?”
“Yes darling. What is it?”
“You know I love you, right?”
“Of course I do. And you know I love you too, right?” I replied somewhat puzzled.
“Yes I do. During the wedding ceremony, I had an experience I need to share with you.”
“Go on, what happened?”
“As we said our vows, something fantastic came to me raising my spirit up out of my body. I felt like I was floating and you were there too. As the Pastor recited the words to our vows, we made a commitment to each other for a lifetime.”
“Althea, that’s amazing. The exact same feeling swept up over me. I could hear the Pastor and feel his presence, but your eyes were the only thing I could clearly see. Still, they weren’t your eyes I saw, but rather your spirit looking back at me.”
“Yes, I understand. It felt like our spirits mingled in the air and Angels surrounded us celebrating our union.”
“I too felt a Holy presence of this same type. It made me feel blissful and was something I was not expecting. It was beautiful.”
“Yes it was, and I will always remember this.”
“So what’s troubling you? What’s on your mind?” I said maneuvering myself on the bed. This was the first time Althea was ever this serious with me and I wanted to give her my undivided attention.
Althea sighed and grabbed my hand. She held it closely to her breast and looked seriously into my deep brown eyes. “Phil, I can only marry you for one year, at a time.”
Thinking she was joking around, I began to laugh. But soon her somber expression dismissed my light heartedness, and I saw she was serious. “What do you mean?”
“I want to be completely honest about my feelings. I don’t believe I could ever love anyone else as much as I love you, but I know myself and I don’t know if I can commit to you for a
lifetime. I just can’t imagine how long that is—a whole life time!”
I thought about what the law would say about her words—not siding with her wishes and viewing our marriage as a contract—but her feelings were laid out on the table and she was being completely honest with me. She had given our marriage much deeper thought than I had and something happened: I too paused and thought about what our marriage would be like decades from now.
What is it to commit to one person for an entire lifetime? Can I honestly say to myself I can do this for twenty, thirty, or forty years and remain faithful? I truthfully did not know. Although both of our parents had done so, I too was now uncertain as if I could do the same. “I understand your concern and your personal doubt. I have a similar issue with the unknown, but it appears that yours lays heavier on your mind than it does on mine.”
“Ever since my mother told me to be sure about marrying you, I have had this feeling about not being able to keep this commitment. I am scared. I know how I am and I don’t want to be that way with us, so I thought this solution would help me. I know I can commit to you for one year, completely and unconditionally. But at the end of that year, I need to reassess our relationship and decide if I want to go on for another year.”
I don’t know why I thought this was different. Everything about Althea was different, so why should this be anything to the contrary? With the chance of not having Althea in my life next year, this put some pressure on me to step up and consistently invest into our relationship. From that moment on, I started thinking of ways to make our life special and to make each day a gift. This may not be such a bad idea, I thought to myself. It could help us find a way to assure our complete connection with each other knowing that every year we would both go under scrutiny. “So what should we do?”
“Nothing, just agree that this is our plan and you will always honor it.”
Honor is earned and not given. What we did next brought honor to each of us.
“Althea, I take you for my wife. I vow to stay with you for one year, I will love you, and I will do my best to be worthy of you. Next year on our anniversary, we will renegotiate our relationship and if we both agree, I will gladly reaffirm this vow to you.”
“Phil, I take you as my husband for one year. I will love you and be by your side as we walk through life together. You mean everything to me and I feel your love in my heart. In one year, I will honestly profess my feelings to you and review our life together. If we believe one more year is worth a shot, then I will gladly reaffirm my vow to you.”
And it was done. We hugged each other, kissing each other passionately, and fell asleep locked in each other’s arms. This was a different way to be married but each person is unique. I respected Althea for being open and honest with me and as a result of this honesty we are still married today, decades later.
I look back at this moment and do not recall what we said and how we said it. But one thing I do clearly recall is in bearing our souls to each other, we twice felt the Angels attend our wedding vows. With such a Holy presence, how could anything but success happen in our marriage? How could I conceive at anything else but complete happiness and bliss? I believed in one year when we considered recommitting to each other again, it would be an easy choice for me. I was so lucky to have such a woman love me and be by my side. I would do anything to keep that honesty and wisdom in our relationship alive.
Dancing into the kitchen, I made myself some breakfast while the soothing sounds of Mozart played in my ears. I took my time and the morning passed slowly, easily finishing everything I wanted to do long before I thought I would. Humming to the music and doing chores with joy in my heart always made thing go smoothly. The morning went by amazingly fast and I felt happy and whole, excited to embrace whatever the day would bring.
I pulled out the list of things I needed to take with me. Slippers, a robe, and Althea’s favorite night gown were soon folded neatly on the edge of the bed. Recalling a scribbling she made at the hospital yesterday, I grabbed some unsweetened soymilk from the refrigerator.
Althea’s Third Scribbles
Before I knew it, it was noon and I once again pulled into my favorite parking spot at the hospital. Walking into the ICU, I was uncertain if Althea would still be there. But there she was with Diana, the day shift nurse, helping her eat. Althea smiled at me, greeting me with loving eyes. Of course, Althea still wants to do everything herself at every stage of her recovery, and today she is trying to feed herself for the first time. I watched her with glee as she balanced some cottage cheese and peaches on the end of a spoon eventually finding her mouth.
Two other nurses joined us and said, “We were hoping that you could be here to see this. It would have been a shame if you had missed it.”
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” I replied smiling broadly. Walking in at this precise moment was not a coincidence; I don’t believe in coincidences. This was just as it was supposed to be: absolute one hundred percent perfection, perfect timing. For me to witness such a significant moment in Althea’s recovery was not a coincidence; it was a reciprocal gift to me for the unhurried morning I gave myself.
“The doctors decided to keep Althea here in the ICU for a while longer to see how she did eating real food. She seems to be doing pretty well all by herself. We’ll leave you two alone. Call us if you need anything.” The three nurses then strolled out the door giggling with each other.
These nurses are amazing, giving Althea more attention and care than I ever expected. Keeping close watch to her phlegm and suctioning it out as needed helped her quickly regain her strength. Encouraging her to sit up and stretch made her feel involved in her own recovery. Everything appears to be working together. Deciding to keep her in ICU a little longer is just a minor setback.
Althea frustrated by this news, tried to stay positive. Tapping her finger nervously on the table and scanning her limited surrounding, I see she wishes to be somewhere else—anywhere else but here. She feels good and wants to escape the sterile confines of the intensive care unit. She thought she would take one more step forward, but instead felt like she took one step back.
Switching to a rebellious and irritable mood, Althea resisted any reading, playing cards, exercising, or doing anything I had in the past week with her. This is a pivotal moment in my support of her recovery. She is bored and I find this a good sign. I just need to adjust my attitude so she gets over her disappointment and continues to be optimistic.
Shifting gears again, my mind scrambled to find ways to fix this problem. Nothing! Not one idea came to mind. I sat next to her and just started talking about what I saw happening and how I felt about the decision.
“You appear to be disappointed. Are you?”
Althea nodded slowly up and down.
“I am also. I was hoping as I walked in you would not be here in ICU today.”
Althea’s eyes looked down, she exhaled, and her shoulders slumped.
“When choosing non-traditional approaches in therapy, we must accept what compromises the team monitoring your recovery deems necessary to assure your safety. We both know you are doing much better than they suspect, but they do not know all of what we do. If you choked on the food, I’m sure they just wanted to have the proper life-saving measures close at hand and the ICU has these measures.”
Without raising her chin, Althea tilted her eyes up and listened to me intently as I continued.
“This compromise takes more time, but it is what we must do to avoid taking the X-ray.”
Althea nodded understanding that she must cooperate with their decision—a small but inconvenient price she now pays in exercising her right to choose.
“Once you prove to them you are well enough to swallow, they should allow you to move to another room. This is just going to take a little time.”
Nodding, Althea looked down but then inhaled and looked promisingly at me. Her eyes were focusing in two different directions much like someone trying to be sil
ly. Althea was not.
Routinely, Althea’s eyes were both opened but her left eye did not look at the same point in space as her right. This made it difficult for her to look at me without deliberately closing her left eye, and frustrated her even more. She wanted to be normal. She wanted to be completely well. And she knew it was going to take a while for her to get where she wanted. She wasn’t getting her way in several ways, and she was pouting.
“Look at the drawing,” I said redirecting her. “Remember how happy we were sitting on your bench?”
Althea nodded again this time a small smile crept from the corner of her mouth. Her lip twitched and she gazed on this happy scene.
Althea: A Story of Love Page 24
