Transitions

Jenny here.  

Yesterday I thought I had hit a low with Wil being so depressed and refusing to try.  I really appreciate the texts, posts, emails,and messages from you all.  I haven’t had time to respond to them all…but I’ve read every one and held on to them.  Truly, thank you.  I felt really exposed writing it, maybe a little self-absorbed, but I feel good came from it.

Have you ever written yourself a letter to open in the future?  I remember doing that at summer camp and it was always fun to see what you wrote.  Last night I went home after blogging, praying and trying to figure out how to make my way back to the hospital.  I was tired, sad, still upset...but more than anything I just felt powerless.  

I found some boxes of pictures in the office and started looking through them for something that I could show him.  A symbol, a memory…something that would make him remember the man and husband I know still exists.  I found a few, but then I stumbled upon a letter I scribbled on FYE Illinois WesleyanUniversity note pad sheets to him in 2003 (for my IWU peeps who remember those!), and it reminded me of the person and wife I am too.  I won’t bore you with the whole thing, but I remember that day…May 12, 2003, sitting on the floor of our empty apartment in Urbana, IL.  We had just spent the first 3 years of our marriage at IWU and were moving out into our first hand-picked apartment so I could finish my MSW.  I was waiting for our new couch to arrive.  Broke as hell…again.  

“I’m sitting here thinking about our vows, ‘For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.’  I’m trying to remember the feeling that day and it rushes back like a wave of deep blue ocean--certainly not always calm, maybe a little chaotic, overwhelming, hostile at times—but moving to a destined rhythm and controlled by a power far above.  I’m trying to remember that our future is the same--rolling along, caressing unknown shores, scary, but meant to be.  We laughed during our ceremony back then because we were living in uncertainty but somehow we always stay afloat.  Every day is a step of faith as my heart expands being together.  There is no one else I would rather be poor or sick with because you can’t buy happiness, and you, my puppy, make me very happy.”

I grabbed the letter that I had not read since the day I wrote it (yet it said the words I needed righ then in 2013), and a framed 5x7.  I scribbled in Sharpie “fight for us” on the glass of the picture frame and took off back to the hospital.  

It was a rough night.  He was very delirious again and had trouble sleeping more than 2 hours at a time.  When he woke up, I put the framed picture on his table--a funny selfie of the two of us that we took after the funeral of our dear friend who fought cancer but lost (the reason for our matching tattoos).  

I told him today is a new day and I won’t sit by and helpfacilitate his death.  No more Mrs. Nice Wife.  He said he understood.  He got up, did OT while listening to Mary J. Blige's No More Drama, sat in his recliner for 2 hours,ate twice as much as usual.  It was a good morning.

Today Wil was discharged from UTSW and transferred to a SNF.  I had no clue how emotional it would be for me.  While his previous placement separated out rehab folks from the general nursing home population, this new place is mixed.  I’mstruck by how young we are…I’m reminded by how young we are every time a staff person has a puzzled look and says we are young!  Even the ambulance service woman said “I can’t imagine” and her eyes filled with tears and wished us luck.  Some days I wish we blended in more.  It’s touching, but I’m trying to keep my head up here too.  I don’t see where our life is more remarkable then anyone else’s.  We are all just one life experience away from a whole new life at any moment.  2013 was just our year, our experience.

Wil got assigned his own room because he’s positive for MRSA,but this also means he won’t be able to leave his room much. He drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours while I settled him in and completed the admission paperwork.  I sat on the edge of his bed rubbing his leg, he had been SO anxious all day waiting to transition.  How does man who still weighs 350lbs and measures near 6’4” look so small these days?  

Eventually I left for work, sobbing as I drive off.  I felt more devastated then the day we found out he had cancer.  I don’t want to leave him there but I know he needs help and supervision and pray this is motivation to get going on rehab and get his butt home.  Per his report later this evening ,he is already “causing drama” because he decided to get up and try to use the bathroom.  Thank goodness he did not fall, but he did make a mess and called for cleanup.  He tells me he is in trouble.  I smile from the inside out.  He’s airing his transgressions and apologizing.  I’m just thrilled he is showing some fight J