Althea: A Story of Love

by Philip Rastocny

  As we gazed into each other’s eyes, we knew that our relationship had just moved to a much deeper level. We had walked through another door and once walking through it there was no turning back. She held my hand tenderly in hers and said, “You should get some sleep.”

  “I will. Don’t think about this too much and get some sleep yourself. We’ll talk more about this tomorrow. We have time to make these decisions.”

  I kissed her again and hugged her tenderly to my breast. Just as my hand touched the doorknob, Althea said to me, “Good night. See you tomorrow morning. I love you.”

  As I left for the car, I marveled at Althea’s inner strength and wondered if I were in the same place, I could do half of what she did. All will be well. I see the bench…

  Chapter 23 — March 12, 2008 — Day 21

  * * *

  I recognized the tune Althea was humming in the shower this morning, a melodic piece by a well-known Native American flautist. The echoes in the small shower reverberated through our tiny cabin as the cruise ship floated closer and closer to our destination: Belize. This would be a new country for us to visit and one that we looked forward to exploring. We signed up for an unusual adventure once reaching port: a trek into the rain forest.

  Several friends from our small metaphysical church in St. Petersburg accompanied us, affectionately calling ourselves the Temple Travelers. Planning this trip for months in advance, the waves tossed against the sides of the massive ship stirring our excitement for what was about to happen.

  Arriving in Belize, some members of our group opted to do less strenuous activities so only the bravest of souls joined us. Our small contingent connected with other equally as adventurous members of the cruise; mostly well under our sixty-plus years of age. Standing out from this youthful crowd, we boldly went to where few senior citizens have gone.

  The journey began with a long bus ride from the port, through the small town, and finally on a dirt road into the expansive countryside. Small farms and quaint houses with friendly people waved at our passing bus as its noisy engine disturbed the obvious serenity of these secluded ranches. Children adorned in light-colored shorts and T-shirts with well tanned faces smiled at our passing and returned our cordial greetings. Lumbering down the rutted road, we soon saw the tree line marking the entrance to the forest and the mountains beyond.

  Low clouds shielded the blazing sun that beat down on the roof of our small green and white tour bus. As we ventured closer to the forest, the road narrowed and the unruly ruts became deeper and more numerous. As if plunging into a fresh pond, green leaves and musty smells exploded in our senses as we entered these equatorial tropics.

  Sounds of strange birds and insects buzzed in our ears, drowning out the sputtering of the strain from the small diesel engine. We swayed back and forth along a long, unimproved path heading up into an ancient jungle.

  With no road signs or billboards in sight, our merry adventurers became captivated by the unique vegetation and overwhelmingly lush canyon. Never before had any of us seen so many plants of so many different kinds grow together unattended and uncultivated. Life was everywhere in a dense and chaotically organized symphony. We turned a corner around a massive tree and climbed up a long hill to the hidden outpost.

  A small clearing appeared with the jungle encroaching at its edges. Makeshift buildings of corrugated steel and stacked wood stairways marked the route to our adventure. A short, stocky man adorned with a thin moustache and thick face approached us and announced, “Welcome to the jungle. Please drink water regularly. The heat here is deceiving and you can become dehydrated quickly. Follow me. Your changing rooms are over here on the right.”

  The man pointed to an old slotted-wood building with no doors and a tin roof. His firm arm gestured to the entrance and like sheep we marched in a line up the steps and into the changing room. “Your things will be safe here. Remember you will get wet, so take only those things with you that can tolerate the water.” The man reached into his beige shorts pulling on the pockets and turning them inside out showing us he personally carried nothing inside them.

  We were already drenched to the bone from the tropical humidity, so it seemed like a redundant comment. Whatever we had with us was already soaked, so warning us was kind but a little too late. Slipping off our sandals and sliding into tennis shoes, we stashed our belongings into makeshift screen cages and gathered at the front of the building.

  “Over here are some inner tubes. Pick out one that you like and follow me.”

  Leaning against a long railing were a row of inflated inner tubes ranging in sizes from tiny to large, each capable of floating a youth or an adult. Finding one that comfortably fit, we hoisted the tubes over our shoulders and headed off down the path to where our guide awaited.

  “It is about an hour’s hike to our destination. We will be climbing uphill through the forest most of the way so take your time, watch your step, and drink your water.” With that, our guide grabbed his hiking stick and led us off down the narrow path and into the wild jungle.

  The rainforest is a wondrous place teeming with life. Our guide paused regularly allowing the group to gather at interesting places. He shared with us medicinal plants and herbs noting their use. “This one is good for headaches,” as he named the plant and pointed to an inconspicuous leafy scrub. “And this one will help in the bedroom,” laughing as he pointed to another. “We don’t need those blue pills down here. Maybe this is how it was discovered.”

  Further on down the path, a thin black line crossed the trail and blocked our way. Stepping over the line, he began, “These are leaf cutter ants. They all travel in a line along the same trail. Two types of ants travel together. Watch what happens as I draw a line across their trail with this stick.”

  Our guide took his walking stick and gouged a furrow directly across the line of marching ant. Those carrying leaves above their heads suddenly stopped as if they were lost. Moving one step left or right is all the further they ventured and the column of workers stalled behind these confused creatures.

  Soon, a smaller ant not carrying a leaf made it to the head of the line, joined quickly by a second and then a third. While one stayed behind holding the first leaf bearer at bay, these two smaller ants snooped down the furrow looking for where the trail had disappeared. Within moments, one crossed the furrow and found the path on the other side. Re-crossing the furrow back to the awaiting laborers, this small ant led the way over the furrow and back to the path.

  “You see, the big ones do the work but the little ones know the way. This is much like it is in life. We as adults watch our children for guidance on our path. They are the ones with true wisdom that as adults we sometimes forget.”

  Climbing over rocks along the gravely path we eventually came to a small stream that disappeared into a cave. Setting down his backpack, our guide reached inside and said, “Each of you take one of these flashlights and put it on your head. Then, put your inner tube into the water at the shore and get inside. The stream will carry you into the cave. Once inside, turn on your lights so you can see.”

  Our team of anxious adventurers complied quickly with our guides commands and like the ants on the trail, one-by-one we began floating along in the clear warm water.

  The ceiling of this gray stone cave loomed high over our heads as its meandering path slowly twisted and turned around craggy corners. Through long passages, you could see how the relentless water gouged its way through solid rock over eons of time. Chattering to each other we became captivated by the beauty and uniqueness of this watery experience.

  Drifting into one unusually large cavern, the ceiling suddenly rose fifty feet over our heads revealing huge stalactites clinging to its roof. The dripping water from above coated the stalactites and landing in small pools below. Random plopping sounds echoed through the enormous cave. Our adventurers slowed and became conspicuously quiet as we mutually listened to the water surrealistically splash from above.

  Our f
lashlights dashed across the ceiling revealing more and more massive pillars and shiny crystals. The swirling light from the headlamps jetted back and forth in unison to the rhythm of the dripping water and soon our entire party gathered, our headlamps completely illuminating the ceiling above.

  Clinging to a rock and coming to a complete stop, Althea began to chant the melody from her morning shower. The gentle song reverberated off of the ceiling and walls in voluminous echoes. Another woman joined in and then another. The soft sweet tones of their combined voices filled the air bouncing everywhere, intensifying the spontaneous harmony of simple wordless refrains. The chanting rose and fell drifting into distant passages and its diminished echoes mingling with the resurging melody. This chanting went on for what felt like hours as the sounds of the women’s voices blended with the dripping waters. The faintest echoes of these supernatural songs filled every nook and cranny of this magical place.

  The echoes from our chant drifted down stream into the awaiting blackness. This spontaneous song gave back something of ourselves to these beautiful pillars of stone and rock. Our gratitude resonated in recognition of this cavern’s unbelievable majesty and grandeur. It was beautiful.

  One by one, the members of our group drifted down stream, their headlights and voices disappearing in a hush around the bend. But Althea and I lingered until the last. Relishing these final few private moments, we held hands in the warm water and ended our simple song. The magnificence of this experience could only be held in our hearts as we too drifted down stream and on to another adventure.

  Friends Having Fun

  Tossing and turning all night long, Althea’s aftercare arrangements and Dr. Taub’s conditions for Althea’s admission to his clinic buzzed through my brain. How much more stress can Althea take? She doesn’t feel comfortable being away from me now, how will she do alone in an aftercare facility? If I bring her home after her release from the hospital, how can I give her the care she needs? I’m not sure what to do. As a result of this intense self talk, I arose wearier and went in earlier than expected.

  Brushing my teeth, I barely recognized the ghostly face staring back at me in the mirror. Bags under my eyes and a pale complexion greeted me where once was someone smiling and carefree. I look worn out, I thought to myself. I need a vacation. Taking a deep breath and getting centered, I visualized the youthful form of my previous self and filled my body with the energy it needed, recharging it to embrace the day.

  I made it to the hospital in plenty of time for the early morning meeting. After getting my favorite parking place, I walked up to Althea’s room with two fresh cups of coffee. Much to my surprise, Althea was already awake waiting for me. “Good morning darling. How are you today? I brought you some fresh coffee.”

  Putting her hand up to her throat, Althea responded, “I’m fine. I remembered you were coming in early today and I wanted to be awake for you.”

  Hearing her say this rekindled the memories from yesterday’s conversation. She wanted me to know she remembered what I had told her before I left last night. Point noted.

  “Judith from Social Services will be here this morning to talk about your aftercare. I’ve been thinking about this all night and I believe it would be best for you to go to one of these places, at least for the first few days. I am concerned about your ability to get around, and my ability to help you. Caring for you without help would be very hard on me and I am not sure if I can do it. What do you think?”

  Althea took much longer than usual to respond, taking her time to work things out in her mind before answering, she finally responded, “I guess so. It would be hard on you.”

  “Let’s give it a try and then when you can get around, we can bring you home. Okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll give it a try.” Her affect did not reflect the sincerity her voice attempted to portray. It was clear she was uncomfortable with not coming home, but agreed to try. This is all I could ask.

  A knock at the door and Judith appeared with a stack of papers in hand. “Let’s go to my office and talk about Althea’s aftercare.”

  Judith and I settled into a small cubicle outside of her office where she arranged some papers on the round table between us. Turning the first one my way, she looked at me in exhaustion and said, “I haven’t had much luck finding any place in Brooksville or Spring Hill with an opening. I will keep trying but your insurance provider does not work with all of my available options.”

  “So there are some facilities available but they do not take our insurance?”

  “Yes. It would help if you contacted your insurance company explaining this situation and get a list of options they could suggest under such circumstances.”

  “I have the other information you requested.” I handed Judith the name and contact information for our primary care physician. “It has been almost two years since Althea saw him.”

  “This will do fine. Please get back with me soon about the options your insurance company can provide. I’ll be here all day.”

  I left Judith’s office and went back down to the lobby. Calling the insurance company and asking them about options. This proved to be a futile exercise. The conditions of our insurance required the use of an in-network facility for them to cover these expenses.

  I walked back up to Judith’s office and waited for her to get off of the phone. “Did you get in touch with your insurance company?” she inquired.

  “Yes. It appears that there are no other options. They only cover expenses for in-network facilities. Please keep trying to find something. Hopefully an opening will turn up before Althea’s discharge date.”

  “I will try and keep you posted.”

  Walking down the hall from Judith’s office, I turned over this problem to the Creator. Whatever happens, I know it will be for both Althea’s and my highest good. I trust you, Creator, to do what is best.

  Arriving at Althea’s room, I found her sitting up in her chair busily eating breakfast. “So what happened? Did Judith find a place?” she asked.

  “Not yet. There are no openings in our area at all.”

  Althea appeared relieved to hear this news. Going home is truly what she wanted. “Does this mean I can go home?”

  “For now, it does. Judith believes something may open up at the last moment, but she is not very hopeful.”

  A sheepish smirk now appeared on Althea’s face as she took the last bites of her breakfast tray. It is clear she is pleased by these words.

  “Would you like to go for another wheel chair ride after breakfast?” I asked.

  “Oh yes. Let me finish up and get ready. I need to make sure my hat is on straight.”

  “I’ll look for a wheel chair and be right back.”

  Wandering down the nearby halls, none were to be found. So I went back down to the lobby and found a nice one near the main entrance.

  As I approached Althea’s room, a nurse stopped me. “Are you taking Althea out for some change of scenery?” she said.

  “Yes I am. She thoroughly enjoys these little trips. It’s a great change for her from the same boring views from her bed.”

  “Have you been to the back of the building by the water garden?”

  “No. What water garden? Tell me about this.”

  She gave me directions and I excitedly wheeled the chair into Althea’s room. Althea had just finished adjusting her hat in the mirror next to the bed and was standing up all by herself. I was amazed by her ability to get out of bed and over to the mirror unassisted.

  “Oh good. You’re here,” she said with a spring in her voice.

  “A nurse told me of a place we must visit. It will be a surprise.”

  “I like surprises.” Sitting her carefully into the chair, I placed a blanket on her lap and lifted her legs onto the braces. “Not too fast,” she said as I started down the hall.

  Althea’s eyes darted left, right, up, and down as we wandered through the maze of halls. In the elevator, she looked up at me and squeezed my hand
. “I like this,” she whispered.

  First stopping for fresh cups of coffee, I wheeled her chair into the cafeteria and down to the restrooms at the far end of the hall. Doors led outside on the right and as we moved through them, a maze of sidewalks strewn with people laid before us. Passing out of the canopy and onto the main walk, stands of bright flowers in raised planters lined the path. I wheeled Althea along this path and a faint sound of a waterfall caught her attention. Turning her head towards the sound, she finally caught a glimpse of the water garden.

  Wedged between the three creamy white brick buildings of this massive medical complex, a sanctuary appeared. Festooned with budding flowers, meandering cobblestone paths, and groomed green grass, this small piece of land was a welcomed change from institutional décor.