The beginning of the end.

I was not home much the month of April. 

She had been so sick. 

It went on for so long this time.

 

The doctor wanted to treat with steroids first. 

She was admitted to hospital. 

She gained and lost fifty pounds several times throughout the ordeal

‘You are fat!  Look at your fingers! Look at your ankles!’  I was shocked.

 

It was the steroids.  She was a wreck.

Eventually, she begged the doctor to do a bowel resection. 

 

If I wasn’t with her in hospital; I was caring for her babe at her home. 

My family was surviving without me. 

They had to. 

She was missing her family too.

 

When she was released from hospital I expected life to return to normal.

It wasn’t meant to be.

 

The next day she called me. 

She felt unwell. 

I went to her. 

I took her back to hospital. 

She was re-admitted. 

 

She was treated with intravenous antibiotics to fight the infection. 

Within a few days, she was better and able to return home again. 

 

Twenty-four hours later, the same scenario was replayed; sick, hospital, IV and home.

Unbelievably, it happened a third time.

Again, exact same scenario. 

When she returned home this time she was desperate to be there. 

She had been in hospital on and off for almost a month. 

She said I was her hero.

She said she owed me.

She joked, that she would not call me for a few days.

 

That very evening, when I heard the phone ring, I just knew something was wrong.

She was crying. 

She was apologizing. 

She was desperate for me to come over.

 She was sick again.

 

As I got ready to go I prayed I would not find her on her bathroom floor...

I found her on her bathroom floor.

I stood aghast looking at her. 

 

‘What the hell was happening?’

 

She was nauseaus.

She was scared.

She was beside herself with frustration. 

 

Her daughter was in bed, but, awake with worry about her Mom. 

I went and comforted her first.

 

She told me she had heart burn.

She was adamant; she was NOT going back to the hospital.

I was terrified. 

I knew I needed to stay calm for her, but, I knew she was in trouble. 

 

I watched her sitting in the chair, willing her body to fix, willing the pain to leave.

I went to the bedroom and watched her daughter sleep. 

 

It occurred to me that I was standing between two people whose heart could stop any second.  

 

She grew sicker and sicker. 

She had a fever. 

She knew she was in trouble too. 

She submitted and went back to the hospital.

 

I was so relieved when the paramedics arrive. 

They took over her care. 

I arranged her daughter’s care.

I left making promises her Mom would be ok. 

I hoped that was true. 

 

My brain raced en route. 

It was all in my lap. 

I was fully responsible. 

I was nauseous.