Althea: A Story of Love

by Philip Rastocny

Althea was still awake and appeared excited. “I’m going home soon! A doctor came in just now and told me I’m going home soon!”

  “This is great news!” I said half in disbelief. “Do you remember which doctor told you this?”

  She shook her head no.

  “I’m going to check with the nursing station and see if I can find out any more about this.”

  Althea nodded in agreement and I walked over to the nursing station just outside of her door. I hope she didn’t hallucinate this. I thought as I approached. “Excuse me,” I said to the person standing behind the desk holding a chart.

  A young, vibrant woman in a pink sweater under a white lab coat looked up through her glasses swooshing her long straight blonde hair back behind her ear. “Can I help you?” she replied.

  “Yes. I am the husband of Althea Rose in room 307 and she just told me she was going home soon. Do you know when this will be?”

  Her green eyes glanced back down at the chart in her hand and she set it down. “Rose?” she asked again.

  “Yes…first name Althea.”

  She thumbed through a stack of charts in a rack next to the desk, took one out, and flipped through a few pages. Stopping near the end, she looked up at me and took her glasses off holding the frame by its end. “If she feels up to it, she may leave as early as tomorrow. The doctor just needs to check her out before she goes.”

  “Okay, thank you. This is great news.”

  I returned to Althea’s room overjoyed at what I just heard. I relayed to her most of what I was just told. “So, if you maintain your strength and the doctor approves, you may be able to leave tomorrow.”

  Althea’s face perked up again just like when the doctor had first told her this same thing. “This is completely unexpected!” I said feeling my heart pound in my chest.

  Spending over two weeks in ICU, we both assumed Althea would be here at least that long. But room 307 would be a brief stay and the remainder of her recovery would happen elsewhere. Where she goes next is still up in the air, but it feels like she will be going home. I have a lot to think about…to pray about…to turn over…

  Excited with the thought of leaving, Althea fussed with her sheets and items on her night stand more than ever. Nervous energy was building inside of her. “Yay!” she exclaimed raising her arms above her head in joy.

  I cheered her on by stretching my own arms high over my head. “Yay!” I resounded. Gathering a washcloth, tub of warm water, and a bar of soap, I folded down her sheet and said, “Let’s get you a real bath so you can come home clean.”

  While in the hospital, cursory cleaning with dry wipes or damp washcloths was a far cry from Althea’s definition of bathing. For the first time in over three weeks, she was going to get a real sponge bath with sudsy soap and warm water. I closed the door, pulled the curtain, and took my time wiping down, soaping up, and rinsing off every square inch of her well soiled body. Wringing the washcloth out every now and then, brown water flowed freely off of the cloth and into the rinse tub. As each part of her body became truly clean, more lightness came into the room. It was as if I were rinsing away her health problems by giving her this bath.

  “Can we wash my hair too?”

  “Let’s go over to the sink.”

  Getting out of bed, she carefully bent over the wash basin putting her head inside. Balancing against me, she lathered her hair moaning in relief as her fingers combed through the wiry stubbles. A warm rinse of water from a clean coffee cup sent brown shampoo gurgling down the drain. She raised her eyes to the mirror and smiled in relief, “Ah…” She was really clean!

  I dried her off with a fresh towel and applied lotion to her dry skin. Softening her scaly legs and hands, I wiped over the site of a now completely healed blood clot. Getting back into bed, I massaged her swollen feet and within a few minutes she was sound asleep.

  I watched her lying there, so peaceful and content. The events of the past few weeks were so surreal. A healthy, happy woman now rested before my eyes. Who would have thought she would be going home after a little more than three weeks? Who would have known she would survive alone all day while I was at work before getting help?

  When tragedy strikes, people finally realize they need to work on their relationships. Until then, many take each other for granted believing tomorrow will come and there will be plenty of time for such things. Scheduling unfinished business for future resolution can be disastrous. In truth, you or your loved one may not be there and, despite your best intentions, you may miss an opportunity—or worse, end a great relationship. Wouldn’t it be easier to say what is in your heart to those you love every minute of every day? Wouldn’t it be less complicated to address issues and profess your love in the moment when it means the most?

  I feel fortunate that Althea is lying there, resting peacefully. I know our future will bring many challenges in her road to recovery and I am uncertain of how I will manage. But when I see the love in her eyes staring back into mine, life is perfect. I can enjoy her company and hold her hand, feel her warm breath against my cheek, and feel her heart beating in my hand. When I realize such moments are fleeting, I come back to my center. That’s when love flows freely and unconditionally from my heart to hers. That’s the magic.

  Soon this hospital stay will be over and by default, Althea will be with me at home in a loving and familiar environment, in a place she knows well. To be home is what she wants. Not knowing what she will need makes me feel uneasy. Not understanding what extended care she requires makes me feel incompetent. Walking back downstairs to the public computers, I researched in-home care facilities near our house noting their names and locations. With such help, I could more easily care for Althea and give her all of the time she needed with me.

  After grabbing a quick bite of dinner from the hospital cafeteria, I walked back up to Althea’s room with the list of in-home care facilities in hand. Opening the door to her room, I found her still fast asleep, just like a baby. “Althea…wake up honey,” I said whispering into her ear. “I need to talk to you.”

  Groggy at first, she smiled and welcomed my embrace. “What is it?” she said.

  “Here is a list of facilities near our home that have people who can come to our home and help me out while you recover. Which of these do you feel good about doing this?”

  “I need a pendulum,” she said pointing to her pipe bag.

  Opening the bag, I found a sterling silver pendulum on a short chain at the bottom. Handing it to her, she grabbed it by the end and pointed to a name on the list.

  “Is this a good facility to help Phil?” she asked.

  Moving down the list one by one, each name resulted in a “no” response. Only one yielded even a mild “yes” answer and when the list was complete she looked back up at me and said, “Not much of a hint.”

  Interpreting this to mean the list of names did not provide a good match to her needs, I said in response, “It may be better than nothing.” I noted the only name on the list and replied, “I’ll call this one tomorrow morning and see if they can give us a hand.”

  Althea was unimpressed by this. Pointing to the new cards, she changed the subject and said, “Let’s open these cards.”

  For the rest of the evening, we opened and re-read all of her cards. Each one had a personal message encouraging Althea and supporting her in her recovery. As she scanned the wall seeing just how many people took the time to hand write a note, she became tearful again.

  “I don’t know why I am so emotional,” she said wiping the edge of her cheek. “I just feel so filled with love.”

  “You are a very special person to many, many people. You have made a big difference in their lives. They want you to know they love you and are thankful for you.”

  “I had no idea,” she said rocking her head back and forth.

  Explaining my plans to go home and get her car, we spent a few more minutes together until she wore out. While all of today’s excitement raised her spirits, it dr
ained her physically. She still needs a lot of rest. From my own motorcycle concussion, I know this to be true. I said goodnight and told her I would see her in the morning.

  Leaving just after nine o’clock, I drove home excitedly. The possibility of Althea coming home in the next few days seemed like a fantasy. It was hard to contain my excitement so I turned on a classic rock station and started singing along with the old familiar songs. Singing as loud as I could, tears streamed from my eyes as I pulled into our house. Tomorrow would surely be a very interesting day.

  Chapter 25 — March 14, 2008 — Day 23

  * * *

  Nursing is a highly rewarding and demanding career, and Althea loved every moment of hers. After helping countless patients recover and return to a normal life, she decided to go back to school. Althea felt that institutionalized medicine focused primarily on physical healing and, although absolutely essential, it ignored other curing aspects. Her personal experiences showed that healing the body was only one step in returning someone to total health; until all aspects of an illness were addressed, complete curing would not occur.

  Wanting to remain in the healthcare field she loved, Althea longed for a slightly different approach to providing total patient care. Pondering possibilities and contemplating career choices, she sought out a university that would allow her to create her own curriculum. Metropolitan State University in Denver offered such a program.

  Working with counselors and advisors, Althea used the Nursing Science program to develop a well-balanced academic program she called Holistic Health and Wellness Education. Her unique degree focused on aspects of care giving much broader in scope than the University’s standard offering. With her custom-tailored program, all forms of healing and recovery—body, mind, and spirit—were embraced.

  Hard work and long hours came to fruition and in two short years Althea’s dream for a personalized Bachelor’s Degree was at hand. As the reality of her graduation date approached, she wanted to do something special, something different, and something to set her apart from the nearly two thousand others in her graduating class. She wanted to celebrate her unique degree program with an equally unique but tasteful graduation statement.

  Mortar boards are the typical place for such statements to appear. Classic slogans like I Need a Job and For Hire and Thanks Mom and Dad commonly appear stenciled atop these prestigious hats. As a graduate approaches the stage and receives his or her diploma, a simple bow to the crowd cleverly reveals the otherwise hidden message. But these were all too common for Althea, and she wanted something unusual and still in this tasteful realm.

  Already well known for her glitzy and flamboyant forms of self expression, Althea sat down with me to discuss ideas. As she began, she chose her words carefully. “I want to do something radical that no one has done before. What do you think I could do that would be fun and fanciful, but not get me thrown out of the graduation ceremony?”

  “What statement do you want to make?” I inquired.

  “I want to stand out from the crowd. There will be a sea of black robes and I want my family and friends to easily find me. What can you think of to do that?”

  Pausing for what seemed like several minutes, I finally responded, “I don’t know. Let me think about it for a while. We have a few months yet until the ceremony. I have plenty of time to come up with something.”

  This was a tall order and one that had to be just perfect. Creative, attract people’s attention, and tasteful…hmmm… I thought stroking my chin. Something to think about…

  Days passed and then weeks, but true inspiration eluded me. One night while driving alone home from visiting a friend, I saw the solution to Althea’s request. There before me at the stop light was the answer. A recent fad in car accessories put small lights around the edges of a license plate and the car in front of me had one of these gadgets. “I have it!” I exclaimed making a mental note of my idea.

  When returning home, I explained to Althea what I saw. “I was driving down west Colfax and one of those cars with the big boom boxes inside was in front of me. This guy had his music turned up so loud it was difficult to ignore him. But as I sat there waiting for the light to turn green, I noticed something on his license plate.”

  “On his license plate?” she said looking quite puzzled.

  “Yes. He had red lights that danced back and forth around the edges. It was quite novel and it gave me an idea.”

  Taking my fingers, I drew an imaginary line around the outside of a license plate showing how the light bounced from top to bottom much like that in a movie theater’s electronic marquis. “What if I made you something like that around the edges of the mortar board on your graduation cap?” I continued.

  “That’s it!” she said enthusiastically. “Can you make this in time?”

  With only two weeks left, I had to hurry. But I felt confident I could cobble something together quickly and reasonably inexpensive. “Yes I can,” I pronounced. The pressure was on. Now, I had to produce.

  I had absolutely no idea of how I was going to pull this off. Designing something from scratch is possible, but it takes a long time to fabricate much less troubleshoot and perfect a custom design. So I went to an auto parts store in town and found one of the gadgets that framed the license plate and bought it. Surely, adapting this thing to a hat can’t be that hard to do. I thought to myself. With a bit of luck, I managed to build a contraption that worked exactly as ordered.

  Althea got her cap and gown early so I could properly fit the contraption to the underside of the mortar board. Wanting it to be working for most of the two-hour long ceremony, the battery was too big and heavy to fit inside the hat. So, she wore a battery holder on her belt. Small clips and black duct tape held the contraption to the underside of her cap; it all but disappeared.

  Not only was it classy, it was stealthy! Even the wire to the battery in her gown ran down the inside of her hat concealing everything. It was perfect. To the untrained eye, her bold statement would be completely concealed.

  We tested the contraption that night in the dark and it worked like a charm. Bright red lights bounced from the front tip of the mortar board to the back, and then to the front again. The lights on the left side were perfectly timed with the lights on the right as they synchronously dashed back and forth. Althea was so impressed. This was more than anything she imagined it would be. “Phil, you really outdid yourself this time. This is amazing. I have one more prop I know will go perfectly with this hat.”

  Wandering into our bedroom, she returned wearing a pair of sunglasses she bought in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Bizarrely adorned with peacock plumes and attached to the frame by empty bullet cartridges, these were no ordinary sunglasses. These were outrageous. The colors of the feathers were truly spectacular contrasting against her all-black cap. “Now, this is it!” she announced proudly.

  I agreed. The addition of the sunglasses made this combination ten times as much of a statement than either would do alone. She was giddy with excitement and could not wait for her graduation day to arrive.

  Coming through for her on this special day was important for me to do, and now she would make the statement she wanted. Covert like a spy and classy like a tasteful Las Vegas sign, her graduation cap was sure to be the hit of the graduation class. The Engineering department would be green with envy and the Nursing department would be breathless. It was positively perfect.

  On graduation night, we first met our friends for dinner and then dashed off to the Denver Coliseum for the formal ceremony. Finally finding the right building among the maze of complexes, we all went inside and sat down while Althea changed into her cap and gown.

  Simple brown folding chairs crowded around the small stage in the building’s arena. A public address system played mindless music meant to set the mood for the upcoming ceremony. The students were arranged by class and in a sea of hundreds; from the back, everyone literally looked alike. One by one, more and more students filed in and sat down wit
h their classmates. Soon the room was filled with noisy, joyful, and eager people.

  Tassels bobbed on the edges of caps while students chattered contagiously with each other. The room lights dimmed and none of our friends or I could spot Althea in the assemblage of all-black attire. Then, suddenly, a lone mortar board about two thirds from the front and on the right side lit up like a signal beacon in a fog. Red lights danced magically back and forth catching everyone’s attention behind her. Laughter drifted across the back rows of the class and Althea giggled in delight.

  When their name was called, each student was given their brief moment of graduation fame on the small stage. Approaching the Dean, typical stunts strolled across the platform as each energetic student displayed their personal contribution to this celebration. Every one of them had their own good reason to celebrate, and so did Althea. For the moment, she was surrounded by her friends and classmates all celebrating and having a grand old time.