Althea: A Story of Love

by Philip Rastocny

  “Soon, we will be sitting there once again. Today is not that day, but soon. I know we will be there. I am completely convinced of this and I can hear the hawks calling to each other as they circle high over our heads. Remember what this sounded like? Remember how you smiled at me when they did?”

  Getting that healthy glow back in her eyes, Althea nodded her head “Yes.” She straightened her bed sheets and put her hands on her lap. Surrendering to her situation and hoping for tomorrow, Althea reached out for my hand and held it close to her.

  The meal agreed with Althea and soon after she went to sleep. I stayed with her for quite a while cleaning up her trachea site. I suctioned it out, dabbed antiseptic cream around the incision, and put on a new bandage.

  Since most men are “fixers,” routine tasks come normal to me and I feel like I am contributing to Althea’s overall recovery when I am doing something. The prayer ties, sweet grass, and medical equipment all surrounded her and supported her, but one of the hardest things I find to do is to just sit quietly.

  Althea is a bit more tired today than others and she just wanted to hold my hand. Reading to her some healing affirmations, we spent a peaceful and introspective day together. There was no pushing her to do more, no writing, no exercises, and no stress. She needed a full day off while she adjusted to this new level of acceptance, and I was glad to do this with her.

  Staring at me with half-opened eyes, she said, “Why don’t you just leave.”

  She is still pouting, I chuckled to myself not taking this personally. When Althea is irritated, she struggles like this. She prefers to process such things alone.

  “Okay. I’ll take off and give me some time for myself. See you tomorrow, darling. Sleep well.”

  We kissed each other and I walked out the door. Today was a day of patience and acceptance; tomorrow will be better.

  Chapter 17 — March 6, 2008 — Day 15

  * * *

  For our first fifteen years of marriage, Althea chose the time-honored occupation of a Registered Nurse. Starting with training in the military as a corpsman and followed by formal nursing school, she began her career working in major hospitals. Her bedside compassion matched well with the nurturing needs of surgical patients. But much to her dismay, Althea found a normal hospital routine rather unchallenging. Transferring from surgical recovery to psychiatric and drug rehabilitation, she found a good match for her own interests.

  The cloth from which quality workers are cut is indeed rare and Althea was clearly cut from the rarest of such cloths. It takes a special individual to get to core issues in a person’s addictive personality much less help these people work through them. It was not unusual for her to randomly run into ex-patients, for them to walk up to her, and thank her for helping transform their lives. This is where she found her true reward. Such voluntary gratitude was a greater compensation to her than the modest salary she received. Long-term recovery from serious addictions is unusual, but her fifteen year career gave her numerous rewards.

  Eventually becoming a certified Alcohol and Drug Abuse (ADAD) Level-III counselor, Althea effortlessly wielded her inherent skills literally thriving on the intense patient interaction and confrontation. But conventional medicine and rising insurance restrictions eventually wore her down, and Althea found treating the whole person—mind, body, and spirit—is where she would rather be. Returning to school, she received her Bachelor’s Degree in Alternative Healing Therapies and focused on Massage Therapy.

  Anything Althea did, she did with passion and conviction, massage being no exception. Studying at many other schools, she received degrees and certifications in several massage styles and techniques. Her hands were magical and helping her with her homework was a wonderful side benefit. While supporting her, my feedback helped her fine tune her instinctive skills.

  Opening offices at our home, Denver, and Conifer kept her busy. She was happier now than ever before using western medical concepts in a holistic manner and leaving behind the constraints of a compromised medical system. Now in complete control of her own patients and their well being, she worked with other area physicians and therapists who subscribed to a similar total-healing philosophy.

  Althea supplemented her personal healing at the soothing waters of local hot springs. She found a book that pinpointed every hot spring in the country, both well known and off of the beaten path, and began seeking them out. At each one, she felt subtle energetic differences not only in the warm waters but also from their pungent smells and healing powers.

  One by one, she ticked off these nearby springs noting their assets in each visit. Some were therapeutic for her body only, while others eased her mind. Some were commercially operated by businesses and some located at the end of a short hike through pristine wildernesses. Each one was an individual experience, unique in some respect.

  Colorado, Wyoming, and New Mexico all have wondrous springs within an easy day’s drive of our Conifer home. Randomly picking a new place in her book, Althea would load up her motorcycle and drive out to see what it was like. Once she decided how this new hot spring fit into her hierarchy of therapies, she would return home and take me back on a subsequent trip. Elated from her first visit, she brought home rave reviews of a rare find near Crestone, Colorado, and put it at the top of her list of her all-time favorites. I was excited to experience what she went on about, so one Wednesday morning we decided to go back.

  Spending quality time at any hot springs usually means staying the night. With a light bag packed, we set out to the southwest on a beautiful spring day to do just that. Flanked by steep walls and majestic green pine trees, we twisted through the narrow canyons of Highway 285 and wound onto the high plateau of South Park. Across this expansive plain, we spotted a huge heard of elk grazing near a stream in the high pastures. With the males encircling the heard, the females sat in the sun watching their newborns romp and play.

  As we journeyed deeper into the Rocky Mountains, we crossed into the San Isabel National Forest, over the pass, and down into the sleepy mountain town of Buena Vista. Here, the highway follows another classic landmark, the beautiful Arkansas River, with lush green farms on the right and foaming white water on our left. With hawks sitting on fence posts, skunks wriggling through fences, and deer nibbling on the new short grass, we reached a spectacular set of spiraling peaks— a sight not at all uncommon in the heart of the Colorado Rockies. Continuing south over a high pass, we dropped down into the Saguache Valley. This ancient volcanic valley boasts huge farms that—among other things—grow ingredients for a large Colorado brewery. The sights of new budding plants faded off into the distance as far as we could see like a beautiful waving sea of green.

  Driving south of Salida into the San Luis Valley, access to these hot springs is immediately after the Highway 17 junction. On the east side is Colorado Road GG, a long dirt drive that takes you right to the foot of the mountains near Lakes Peak. I thought it strange that no signs announced its presence, but Althea assured me we were indeed at the right place. Snuggled inconspicuously into the western slopes of the Sangre de Cristo mountain range, I would soon find a uniquely primitive and highly healing therapy experience literally unlike any other.

  In its day, this dusty old dirt road shuttled many horse drawn buckboards full of iron ore from local mines. Ending just past a small group of trees, a parking lot appeared near a row of tiny one-room wooden cabins. Two long thin rails ran horizontally between old hand hewn posts held in place with large rusted nails. Reminiscent of days when horses did much the same upon their arrival, we nosed the car up to the railing’s edge.

  “We’re here!” Althea announced. “This is Valley View!”

  With a feeling like you had traveled back in time, I scanned the grounds and saw many well-preserved buildings that obviously dated back to those early days of western history. This unspoiled setting provided the simplicity, isolation, and beauty I personally longed to find.

  We emptied the car of our overnight g
ear and walked toward the office. Inside, carefully arranged antique furniture flanked the edges of a small converted sitting room. Pictures of old mines and hopeful prospectors were neatly displayed on the walls behind the counter and on tables. We checked in quickly noting that a wood-fired steam bath would be available tonight.

  Our cabin was located past a large rectangular naturally occurring pool, with rock walls and a stacked stone stairway at its far end. The thin stainless steel handrail was the only hint to contemporary construction anywhere the eye could see. This hot springs was truly one place you felt like you stepped into the late 1800s.

  Walking along the path to our cabin, we stored our bags in the ten by twenty foot room, put on our robes, grabbed our towels, and proceeded back toward the main pool. Althea explained to me how lovely and natural the surroundings were and how tepid the water was, but until I saw it with my own eyes, I had no idea. Althea knelt down to the water, swooshing it in her hand, and said, “You can sit in these pools all day long without overheating. It’s almost like taking a long leisurely bath out in the wild.”

  She was right. We walked to the far side of the large rectangular pool—what the locals affectionately called the party pool—and headed off down a narrow dirt path into the brush. All along the route we saw deer scat and animal tracks. When we finally emerged onto a small clearing next to the foot of the mountain, Althea explained, “This is the lower pool. I’ve heard that animals drink from the pool while you’re in it.”

  Although still hidden in the lower valley, the view through breaks in the abundant brush revealed green fields and distant mountains. In the body-temperature water, we sat and talked about the tranquility we felt in this welcomed oasis. “The water is not as hot as in other hot springs, but it is quite comfortable,” I said twitching my toes in the late afternoon sun.

  We stayed at the lowest pool listening to small game rustling in the brush nearby. Sitting silently with our eyes closed, the sun set slowly against the rugged mountains across the far end of this broad valley. “Before dark, we have to reach the high pool. It’s a little cooler up there, but the view alone is worth it.”

  Climbing out of the lower pool, I followed Althea up another trail that led high up the hill. The vegetation changed with the steepening slopes and the well worn path narrowed with each step we climbed. Leaning forward, we scrambled up the last remaining section of the rocky trail onto a thin ledge. There in the middle of the ledge was a pool slightly larger than the one we had just left.

  Valley View Hot Springs

  Now high above the scrubby cedar trees, I turned around and saw the entire valley unobstructed. Streetlights from distant farms dotted the landscape as the sky grew darker like a swarm of fireflies along a railroad track. As the sun set behind the distant mountains, the stars in the sky shined like bright flashlights causing an eerie glow along the ground. Colors faded from mossy greens to subtle shades of gray that with each passing moment allowed us to see more and more detail. Our night vision was returning. As twilight faded into darkness, we settled into the shallow pool watching random bats soar by our heads—the only parts of our bodies above the lukewarm water.

  An occasional car or truck glided down the distant highway no doubt destined for civilization. With headlights shining like beacons in the dark, they silently floated along the distant dark asphalt road. Muffled noises of groaning tail pipes interrupted the chirping crickets in this unbelievable silence. This was indeed serenity.

  The moon was well behind us, just making its way above Lakes Peak. Faint shadows appeared along the path revealing rocks at its edge unnoticed until now. “I have to sit up,” Althea blurted out. “I’m getting a kink in my neck.”

  Althea lifted herself out of the water and into a sitting position at the uphill edge of the pool. With her feet still dangling in the water, she gasped, “Oh my God. Look at that!”

  “What do you see?”

  “It’s glowing,” she said pointing to the distant edge of the pool. “It’s blue.”

  I sat up in the shallow water and rubbed my eyes in disbelief. “What is this?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing it the last time I was here.”

  Floating over to the far edge, I peered into the water trying to make sense of the puzzle my eyes showed me. Small roots clung to the thin stones just below the waterline. The darker it got, the brighter the tips of these roots glowed. This steady faint blue light was only seen when viewed from directly above. Close to the waterline where we were bathing before, this glow went completely unnoticed.

  “It looks like a kind of plant root,” I said to Althea. “Come over here and look at it.”

  Althea slid back into the shallow pool and waded across to me. “Wow, this is really cool!”

  In the growing moonlight, we watched the tiny dots of blue light mystified by its seemingly supernatural mechanism. “It must be some sort of organic reaction that makes it glow in the moonlight,” I said in a wild guess.

  “It looks like magic to me,” Althea replied. “It looks like something right out of a mystical dream from a fairy tale.”

  Looking around the pool, all along its edge was this same faint blue steady glow. It was just like being surrounded by fairies.

  We lay there in the cool air long after the sun had set. After our hands pruned up and with only moonlight to guide us, we cautiously snaked our way down the trail and back toward the cabins. Lying down on the small bed, our hearts were still submerged in this magical healing experience. The tiny fee we paid was miniscule compared to the huge healing we received.

  “Thanks for bringing me here Althea. I really enjoyed this.”

  We closed our eyes as the last yelps of the coyotes echoed through the buildings. With the subtle smell of sulfur in our hair and feeling more rested than we had in years, we snuggled together in each other’s arms and fell fast asleep.

  Something is wrong. The ICU is shut down with a code blue and they will not let me in. My heart leapt into my throat thinking there may be a problem with Althea. What could have happened that would close the whole ward? Calming myself, I sat quietly in the waiting room sipping on my coffee and distracting my mind by scanning the newspaper. Thirty minutes passed, then forty five, and after an hour passed entry was still barred. I phoned the ICU unit but there was no response. I thought to myself, Surely, if there were a problem with Althea they would have called me on my cell phone by now.

  Not knowing for certain if Althea was alright, I meditated. While deep in this state, I tried to feel Althea’s presence. She had once told me, “Meditate and see if you can visualize me breathing, at a place I would most likely be.” Relaxing, I felt her breath against my ear as if she were whispering into it—she was not in danger.

  Finally the doors reopened and I walked by the familiar nurse’s station. As I rounded the corner, I saw Althea sitting up in bed eating breakfast with Diana hovering around her like a mother hen. All appeared fine and then I glanced into the lone man’s room to my left. It was empty—he was gone. Nurses were changing the sheets and wrapping up wires on the monitors as if he had died.

  A strange mixture of emotional extremes overcame me. I was not only ecstatic to see Althea was safe, but simultaneously saddened knowing something had happened to this lone man. I felt guilty that I was so joyous at Althea’s state of health while dismissing my feelings of sadness at this man’s presumed passing. But any lingering feelings of sadness or guilt were instantly replaced by feelings of delight as I reached Althea’s room.

  Pausing in the doorway, I stood curiously silent waiting for her to finish eating. She was focused on her scrambled eggs, tilting her head askew and moving her chin in an unusual manner. Her right hand shook making it difficult to maneuver the fork to her mouth. She was focused on not dropping the food. As her right hand trembled uncontrollably, she steadied it with her left until it stopped shaking. Then letting go, she continued moving the fork to her mouth dropping bits on her lap while
others wobbled precariously on the fork. I cheered internally as each bite eventually reached her awaiting lips.

  When she finished, I warmly greeted her, “Good morning, darling. How are you today?”

  She responded—fork in hand—with thumbs up. I thought, This must really wear her out having to expend so much energy on the simple task of eating, coordinating her limbs and fingers. She gave me a big, wide smile obviously very proud of what she had just accomplished.

  I kissed her warmly and we just looked at each other for a while, our eyes saying what our lips could not. Pointing to the sketch of us sitting on the bench, I reminded her of our vision. “See if you can imagine now what this feels like as we toast our coffee to each other and hold that feeling in your heart.”

  She took a moment to internalize my request. Putting down her head, she looked at the breakfast tray and neatly arranged the plates, utensils, and trash. Motioning for me to remove it, I set the tray on the counter and watched her straighten out the sheets folding her hands on her lap. I have no idea if she heard what I asked. She seemed to lose track of the moment and reacted randomly to whatever stimulus she perceived. Her eyes looked to be miles away as I watched her body settled into a stoic stance.