Brian - Oct 27, 2022
The last thing I remember seeing is the view out of my study window as I fell off my chair. The leaves were red and yellow, the sun was still rising, when everything turned sideways, and my head hit the carpeted floor. I can’t remember much of what happened next. It remains a haze of sirens and flashing lights that I long to fully forget.
The constant beeping of the monitors is relentless, I have no idea how healthcare workers cope with all the beeping each day. I must’ve been here for days already, but it is hard to tell minutes from hours. I’ve heard many tears, from Linda, from Lauren, and Bella. I feel so loved and yet so helpless. I want to comfort them as they cry, reach out my hand, yet I remain stuck inside myself. I can pick up parts of conversations and questions, but my mind is not yet strong enough to respond or move.
The doctors stand around and talk over me. I can’t make sense of their medical mutterings, but I long to wake and begin to understand my new reality. While I never took my body for granted, I never imagined how constrained and helpless I could feel. I never saw my daily walk as a feat of nature, but I have the feeling that it will take lots of work to walk like that again.
As fearful as I am of the future before me, I know that Linda and Lauren will take care of me. Their frightened tears, shared stories, and tender whispers of the past week surrounded me in love. They’ve had to make decisions no family should have to make. Not being able to choose for myself made it clear how important it is to plan for another event like this, or worse. I feel guilty for leaving my wife and daughter with so many tough choices while they were having to prepare to possibly lose me. Faced with the prospect of caring for me during my recovery, the least I could’ve done is rid them of having to make such difficult choices as whether to keep trying to save me or forgo treatment after a few days.
I am forever grateful to them for fighting for me and believing in my ability to wake up. I need to focus on moving forward, whatever that looks like for me.
