Second time around
The silence of the night surrounds me. While it should be peaceful everything with in it is screaming out in more of a painful cry. Even still I am somber. Tears do not seem to form or fall from my face. I sit and watch my husband take each breath. The room is dark with the exception of the neon glowing lights of the heart monitor. I watch him as his chest rises and falls. I hold his hand and caress it ever so gently. He is calm, peaceful and serene. Aside from the wires that are connected to him, the fluctuation of his blood pressure from high to low, and the hospital wearing apparel it mirrors a night like most others from the past year. Yet, this night my husband is in critical condition. He has survived a second stroke. A minor stroke to the left hemisphere brought on by a blood clot. His last stroke was to the right hemisphere and one they tagged major. Once again I call up my faith and hope to stand front and center. They echo in the chambers of my brain.
“Humble yourself in sight of the Lord” “Humble yourself in sight of the Lord” “And He, will lift you up…” Suddenly, an angelic choir is singing in my mind. I pray and ask for the healing hands overseeing my husband to help him. As for me, I simply ask the Lord to wrap himself around me, comfort me, and bring me peace. I then open my heart and state “I turn my woes over to you my Lord.”
There is something very interesting to me about when one is launched into a moment of stress or fear of the unknown that we find ourselves expressing an overflow of emotion. Yet, when that stress or fear is partnered with a “been here before” moment the emotion is less dramatic. Don’t get me wrong, I am certain sleep deprivation adds to the ever changing moods I am experiencing, I just feel I am thinking clearly even through there are bouts of complete brain numbness within myself. Perhaps it isn’t logical but it seems safe for me to say that I feel more assured with this second stroke simply because I have been through all of this before. My level of expectation hasn’t changed. With every medical person that walks into the room I have them sound off the medication they are giving, ask questions for clarity, and tell them about my husband. It might be an over abundance of concern on my part but I have watched to many documentaries where mistakes happen. As well, I don’t want my husband to just be a number.
So this time as I go through the same experience of talking with the “trained” staff about what to expect, how to prepare, and people to call I am a bit more detached. It is a detachment from the worry and fear. I just am not allowing myself to be afraid. This time I am confident that we will get through this. I am assured that this stroke is just a set back like a hiccup.
With that my dear readers I giggle at the irony. My husband has been set back but not stopped. He will go through therapy once again to regain range of motion in his limbs. His brain will relearn what he once knew. I will continue cheering him on. Together we will instill hope for our future. Simply, we will keep stepping forward. And, I will hold onto the knowledge I have gained as a stroke survivor’s wife.
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