Some days in our lives warrant far more than a paragraph. The next few posts represent just such days. The details are hard to write, but I think its needed. Bear with me.
Husband and I banter playfully in the mornings, usually yelling at each other from opposite ends of the house. So, when I heard him talking but couldn't make out the words, I yelled back "WHAT?!", but no response came. I thought this was unusual, so I went looking for him.I found him sitting on the bed, paying no mind to me, and I realized I was not the intended recipient of his words. He was on the phone and given the hour, I knew it was likely something/someone important. I sat next to him and waited for the news. "Dad's in the hospital. He has sepsis and he's in PCU. Terry says its serious and we should go." My heart fell as I watched his face do the same. Wes was no stranger to hospitals and his health had been rocky, in varying degrees of severity, since 2004 when he suffered his first stroke. Since November, though, the ER and hospital visits had become more frequent, and the problems became harder to treat. For a man not yet 55, he had been given more than his fare share of mountains to climb and valleys to walk through, and it seemed we were facing the biggest ones yet.
More details trickled in as the day wore on: He's been upgraded to ICU. He's on a ventilator.He's chosen, and Terry has agreed, that no extraordinary measures should be taken to sustain his life should his heart stop beating. I called my mom, a nurse, to relay the info and she told me as honestly and gently as she could just how serious the situation was. I think on some level we all knew it, but those are the kind of words that just have a hard time actually leaving your lips.
Jon left work as soon as he could to go and join his father, and I did the same. Friends and family were already there, and thankfully, the nurses in the ICU didn't protest our blatant disregard for the "2 visitors at a time" rule. We crowded in his room, and as he dozed in and out of restless sleep, Wes knew we were there. He looked good, but the heart monitor was insistent with its warning beeps, letting us know just how hard he was working. The doctors were starting a treatment to target the infection, and now it was just a waiting game.
His granddaughter, my 5 year old step-niece, stood as a watchful guard over her "Poppy". My parents came to wrap their arms around Jon and just be there as a support. Jon's sister, her husband and their sweet baby girl came, too. Jon's step-mom told stories about her beloved spouse. It was a sweet time of familial fellowship. At times like these, when you can't physically do anything to help or change the situation, its amazing how important it becomes to just "be" with each other.
Highlights:
1) It is nothing short of beautiful to watch the people in your life come to your defense, with words of encouragement, prayers of healing and again, just "being" with you.
2) In the midst of what could have been a somber situation, that hospital room rang with laughter. You never appreciate joy as much as you do when it defies the odds of your present circumstances. Thank God for that.
3) My parents. What on earth would I do without them? The way they take up the causes of those they love astounds me. I told them they didn't have to come to the hospital, but they said "KK, its family. Its what you do. We'll see you there." Blessed.
Love & Hard Days,
K
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