For better or for worse. You say those words at your wedding, make a vow to be there for your partner from then on, no matter what. But you really don’t know what you are saying until circumstances that you had hoped would never happen, happen.
Around 2007, while my son Jon was attending and playing football for Birmingham- Southern College, Tim went into the hospital for a small procedure on his back. He had always had back issues and had even had neck surgery a few years prior, but this was just to clean up a few bone spurs that were causing him pain.
The operation did not go as planned. During the procedure the surgeon made a small nick in the spinal cord and a little fluid was seeping out. I was assured that it was not a big deal, although it certainly sounded like a big deal to me! As a precaution the doctor decided to put him in the ICU where he would need to stay on his back and be still for 24 hours. I was assured there was nothing to worry about.
With Tim asleep and nurses sitting there closely monitoring him, I went home to eat and change clothes. When I got back, Tim was not doing well. As time progressed and he was ready to sit up, he couldn’t. When given water to drink, he could not hold the cup. The more time that passed, the worse he got.
Late that second night I called Jon to come to the hospital. He had been calling to check on things regularly and I kept assuring him that everything would be fine, but now I needed him there. When he got there, they were taking Tim for a CAT scan to see if he had had a stroke. I remember that was the first time I was really scared. And it was the first time I really saw what kind of man my son had grown up to be.
Jon took hold of the situation, asked the right questions and then checked on me- when had I eaten last (I couldn’t remember) and when had I gone home to rest last (it had been awhile.) He took me to the cafeteria, got me food and made me eat it, calmed my fears and overall was the strong person I needed to get me back on track to handle what was to come.
The scan showed no sign of stroke and the staff began to throw up their hands- they had no idea what could be wrong.
I remember one of our ministers showing up for a hospital visit, unaware that anything was terribly wrong. They were surprised to find us in ICU and shocked to see the shape Tim was in.
Although I had told the nurses that Tim had been perfectly healthy a week before, they acted as if they didn’t believe me. When two ministers in a row stopped by and not only acted shocked, but told of how they had just seen Tim out on his bicycle the week before, riding on one of his 30 mile treks that he took 3 or 4 times a week, the nurses quit asking me if we already had ramps installed in the house for his “condition” and began to look for answers.
He deteriorated by the hour until Jon walked in and Tim had no idea who he was. Barely conscious and not able to control his muscles, Tim was in a bad way.
As a wife, I felt every emotion you can imagine. Fear, sadness, uncertainty, overwhelming love, helplessness and gratitude. I was amazed to have a son I could lean on and a church that continually stopped by to check on us.
Jon never missed a class or a work out, but was there with me every moment he could be. I moved from the space in the ICU where Tim slept to the waiting area for almost a week.
When Tim would moan or seem uncomfortable, the nurse would hit the button on his morphine pump to try to get him some relief. After days of that, one nurse finally suggested that Tim might be having an allergic reaction to the morphine. After much discussion, the pump was removed and an “antidote” to the morphine was given. I was assured that it would have an almost immediate affect.
Nothing changed. Were they wrong again? The nurse was adamant and another dose was given. Tim began to come around after some time and they decided they were on the right track, it just took a little longer because of Tim’s size.
Eventually Tim could move better, hold a cup, recognize his child. He was moved to a regular room for one more night with instructions not to get up. I stayed in the chair by his bed overnight because I knew he would not follow instructions- he rarely does!
A friend came to take us home, Jon filled in for Tim at church for a wedding on Saturday night and services Sunday morning and by Monday Tim was so much better.
Tim calls it “the lost week” because he doesn’t really remember much about it. I remember it all too well. Whenever we fill out forms or are asked what he is allergic to I write in bold letters ALLERGIC TO MORPHINE!! I never wanted to feel that helpless again. I never wanted to see the person I married, MY person, go through anything like that again.
The uncertainty, the fear, the anguish is something that is hard to describe. Wondering if someone will survive, if they will recover, if they will depend on you for everything from then on, if they will ever remember you, makes that old “for better or worse” all too real.
Being there for someone no matter what sounds better in the abstract. Being put to the test makes you question everything. It teaches you who you are and just how much you actually love that person you made a promise to. It is something I never wanted to have to go through again.
Little did I know, twelve years later, I would have to go through those emotions again.
To be continued…
