Thursday, February 24, 2011

A Moment.

I have been writing, and thinking, and even dreaming, of how quickly one's life can be altered. This is a bump in our road, and maybe it will give us some down time to follow God's lead to a new road, but really, it's minor compared to how drastically other people's lives change.

But I had a glimpse two days ago.

Laying around all day and all night can do funny things to a body. Blood isn't circulating right, things ache, nothing is comfortable. Aaron has been recovering well all things considered. Yesterday I had to go into work, and I found a couple "husband sitters" to hang out here at the house, just in case. This way they could get him what he needed and be here in case of emergency. I walked my friend to the door and said good bye and as I turned back to the living room Aaron was standing up from his recliner. I asked if he was okay, he responded yes, but he wasn't.

Everything that happened over the next several minutes was both super fast and in slow motion at the same time. It was terrifying to watch, and know I was too far away to do anything about it.

He started to teeter, and without the crutches in place, and with only one foot to stand one, he started going down. He hopped and as I ran across the now vast space between us I lost view of him behind the wall. That wall of separation was agony. I threw what was in my hand as I turned the corner hearing him crashing into the treadmill. He caught himself mid spin and kept saying ,"I'm okay, I'm okay". I think he was trying to convince himself as much as me. I grabbed the fallen crutches, and checked his leg for injury or damage to the bandaging, then I looked at his face.
"Are you going to pass out?"
"Yes, I think I am"

I kept hold of him, grabbed an ottoman from behind me as he slumped forward. I had to yell over and over "Sit down", but he wasn't responding. i pushed the backs of his knees so he would sit. His head rolled forward, I tried to hold him up and reclined back a little, but he said, not to lean on him, and then things changed again. His breathing became uneven, and gargled, his beautiful big musician hands curled up into claws and then his wrists curled up as well. Then the tremors started. My husband was having a seizure while I held him from falling the rest of the way to the floor. I was helpless to do anything but wait. I said his name over and over with no response, and then a moan...and then, finally, after whet seemed like hours but was probably 30 seconds, he said "yeah?"

"Are you with me?"
"Yeah"
"Are you sure, you weren't for a couple minutes"
"Yeah,I think I am okay"


I don't ever want him to not be with me again. That's enough of that.

2 comments:

Lori said...

Oh man. We're praying! Did he get checked out?

Heather said...

Oh my gosh, that scared me reading this. I think seeing our loved ones in pain (or otherwise incapacitated) is one of the most gut-wrenching feelings ever.

I was glad to see from your next post that things are better.