Ministering Missionaries

One of the nights that Joe was in the hospital, he had become critically ill. A Code Blue had been called on him, he had contracted a seemingly life-threatening infection, he was basically incoherent and the list went on and on. I had had someone contact the bishop as Joe's situation was became very dire and I felt that only a priesthood blessing would help him survive at this particular time.

The bishop and one of his counselors arrived to administer a blessing. However, medical staff was in his room with blood being drawn, IVs being hooked up, etc. We stepped out of his room and went into the empty room next door where I myself was given a blessing.

We then went back into Joe's room, but the scene had not calmed down and unfortunately the bishop and the brother had to leave for a meeting and would try to come back as soon as possible. After they left, I tried to be with Joe, but there was just too much still going on. I then decided to go down to the waiting room and call a few people to update them on Joe's condition. I was in the process of calling Nikki when out of the corner of my eye I spied two white shirts and backpacks walking down another hall. I jumped up and went running after then just knowing that these had to be Mormon missionaries. It was. I called after them, introduced myself and told them that I needed someone to give my husband a blessing.


One elder looked at the other and said, "See I told you we were supposed to come to the hospital tonight". They went on to explain that they were on their way home (which is the opposite side of where we live), were near the hospital and felt that they should go in. How they decided to go to this particular floor, at this particular time and be needed for a particular purpose I only can believe was a miracle.

We went into Joe's room where they spoke to him briefly and commenced to pronounce a blessing upon him. I have listened to many blessings in my life, whether given to me or while being given to someone else. Never in my life though was I able to retain and remember vividly two promises given to Joe in his blessing. He was promised to be restored to his full health and that angels would surround him and be in attendance for him. What comfort this was for me. I knew that my Heavenly Father would protect and care for Joe and he did even though Joe stayed in the hospital for another two weeks and he got worse before he got better.

I have faith that those missionaries were divinely lead to the hospital that night and that I was where I was at that particular time because that's where my Heavenly Father wanted me to be.

After returning home and feeling somewhat better, I contacted those missionaries and had them as guests in our home and fed them dinner. I know that I will most likely never see them again, but they will always remain someone special in my heart. How thankful I am that they were worthy priesthood bearers who listened to the promptings of the Holy Ghost.

Hospital Stay #4 - 11/2/10

I enjoyed my long weekend too well. When I should have gone to bed at my usual 10:00 pm to get up at 4:00 am, I was still playing around on my computer. I was thinking about all the things I'd like to write on my blog. I haven't written much on the blog in the last few months. Life got a little bit crazier than I'd like it to be and a little less "normal" and planned. So, I went to work Monday morning feeling like I had only had three good hours of sleep. And I had. I'd only had three good hours of sleep since it was about 1:00 am when my eyes finally closed.

Monday evening after coming home, picking up Joe to ride with me to drop off dinner at a friend's home, and then fixing and eating our dinner, I decided it was time for me to go to bed early. Around 9:00, I kissed my sweetie, wished him luck that his Indianapolis Colts would win their football game, I went and crawled in bed.

Somewhere around 12:30 am, I woke up out of a perfectly wonderful sound sleep - not to use the bathroom, not to the barking of the dogs, not because of a bad dream. I noticed the light outside the bedroom door which indicated the light was still on in the living room. That's normal some evenings because Joe will sometimes sleep on the couch so as to not disturb my rest and leaves a light on so he can see his way to the bathroom. I turned over in the bed to settle in again, but decided I should get up and see when Joe was coming to bed.

I walked into the living room and discovered him lying totally straight and prone, face down on the carpet. My first thought was what was he doing like that. I called his name, called it again only louder as I walked towards him. That's when the panic began to set in. No answer from him and no movement from him. I hurriedly rolled his body which which felt like what I would imagine to be his dead weight. He was saturated with water and discovered that sometime he had apparently vomited. Still no response and I wondered if he was indeed still alive. I got my answer when I saw breath coming from his mouth and that he mouth needed to be cleaned out. I ran to the kitchen, got some clothes to clean out his mouth. I then tried to check his blood sugar, couldn't get blood, tried again, but had misplaced his monitor. It was then that I knew I needed to get him on his side and call 911. The wait for the ambulance to arrive seemed to take forever. I had to throw on some clothes, unlock the front door, still speak to the person on the end of the line and try to hold Joe up on his side.

The EMT's arrived and were never able to have him regain consciousness and prepared him for the ride to the hospital.

Each and every morning before I put my car in park, I have a prayer and some conversation with my Heavenly Father. One of the things I always ask for is to bless Joe in whatever he does and to guide and protect him while I am gone throughout the day. I also ask for patience and guidance and wisdom to know how to help and care for Joe.

My prayers were answered once again yesterday morning. Small miracles became a big blessing for Joe and me. (1) I woke up for no apparent reason. (2) I got up to check on him rather than just rolling over and going back to sleep. (3) Since Joe had gotten physically sick, somehow he wound up face down rather than still lying on his back. Had that not happened, he would have drown in his own vomit most likely. (4) I had the wisdom to know to turn him on his side. Because of these miracles and blessings, there is a wonderful outcome to all of this.

Though Joe wound up in the hospital and no reason for the unconsciousness has been determined, he is doing wonderfully well now and should be home tomorrow if all goes well.

These pictures show something that has been stuck up one of Joe's nostrils. The parmedics had to insert a tube into his throat through his nostril to help him to breathe. It has had to remain in his nose since then until the blood clots or he could bleed to death.

Aftermath of A Heart Attack

Today has been seven weeks since Joe had his heart attack. In many ways it seems so much longer. I still remember being at work when the emergency room called to say that my husband had been brought to the hospital in an ambulance because he'd had a heart attack. How could that be? He was at an appointment at the cardiologist's office doing a stress test.

I'll go back sometime, when I have the time and the strength to recount what happened in the days following the heart attack. What I need, what I want to write about at this time is the aftermath of the heart attack. I think aftermath is the perfect word for the last seven weeks. Aftermath means consequences, repercussion, after effects, etc. Many things happened to Joe after the heart attack. One of the main things is that he died. I was even told me he was without breath for almost six minutes. One day not too long ago, Joe shared something with me. He told me that when he was in that state of death he experienced something. He told me that he was touched. He was touched by someone and it was the warmest, most gentle touch he had ever experienced.

Those eight days in the hospital were long, life sapping long days of waiting on Joe. During that time Joe's kidneys totally shut down, he was on dialysis, he had a pacemaker installed, he went for too many tests to count or name, he was stuck with needles so many times it's a wonder he didn't look like a water sprinkler when he drank liquid, he hallucinated (a lot), etc., etc., etc. I was so glad when he got out of the hospital. I thought it might be easier having him home. I hated going to the hospital. I dreaded those many, many steps from the parking lot to his room. Having him come home hasn't been easy - it's been a living hell most days. It's been an endless round of doctor visits, lab tests, new medicine to be changed, picked up and/or deleted. It's been bills and more bills from the cardiologist, the nephrologist, the anesthesiologist, the hospital, the labs, the emergency room, the ambulance charge of over $6,000 for a one block ride, the $60,000 pacemaker, room charge and the list goes on and on. There are the copious amounts of money spent on the numerous drugs purchased on what seems to be an almost daily basis.

I confess I've been mad. I am mad. I'm pissed with this phase of my life. I feel as though I'm a mother to a very large toddler. I feel boxed in to a life that I didn't ask for. I feel smothered and at the same time sad that I seem to have lost the man who I fell in love with. I am not ready to be a caregiver. I want someone I love to be able to be a functioning, normal, giving to me person. I deserve it. I need it. For over 1 1/2 years I've gone through broken bones, rehabilitation, pneumonia, congestive heart failure, diabetic highs and lows, eye surgery, intensive care, almost weekly doctor visit and everything in between. I'm tired of changing oxygen tanks, sorting and dispensing medicine, fussing about what has or hasn't been eaten, not being able to sleep all night because Joe doesn't sleep when he should.

I won't go into details, but this week was a pivotal point in our relationship. Joe has been mad. Joe is frustrated. There have been issues that came to the surface; that came to a head. There were things that happened that I hope never happen again. There were promises made that had to be reinforced by both of us. There have been things said to each other that should never have been said by two people who love each other. And Joe and I do love each other. But now I understand why some marriages break up under the strain of traumatic and dramatic changes in their lives and relationship.

I went to visit a dear friend after work today. Marla recently lost her husband due to a lingering illness. She was one of the first people I met when we moved to Casper and we always felt that it was meant for us to become very good friends. We have offered each other our shoulders when we both needed a good cry or some encouraging words. Last week I had to call Marla to come check on Joe the other afternoon. He wasn't feeling well, I was 45 miles away at work and she is the one I was able to reach to come to the house. Marla had just gotten out of the shower and as soon as she dressed, she came straight to the house. Things did not go well for Joe and I that afternoon upon my return home from work and Marla had sent me a text this afternoon checking to see how I was doing. I decided to stop by and see her today before going home. That visit became a blessing to me.

During our conversation, Marla said something that became a "revelation" to me. It instantly brought me to a clearer and more loving understanding of what might have caused the strangeness and the madness of Joe. Earlier I wrote about the experience Joe had when he "died". The warm, loving touch. Marla said that maybe Joe was mad because he had had such a wonderful experience when dead and he had "to come back". She also said that maybe he thought it was his time to go and he was "brought back". Maybe it has been difficult to live each day for the last seven weeks knowing that his pain and healing could have all been over and he could be with that warm, loving, gentle touch. When she said this, it was as though a light bulb came on for me.

All this made perfect sense to me as my sweet husband had steadily become someone I felt as though I no longer knew. Whether what Marla said is true or not, I find deep solace and comfort in her words. One day I will share my "revelation" with Joe when our wounds have healed and we continue to nourish our love for each other. Because you see, I do love Joe and I know he loves me. I cannot imagine life without him. I love him from the top of his fuzzy little head to the bottom of his eight toes. Love is not always easy. I can testify to that, but in the end we can only try to nurture that love each day and don't take that love for granted.

More Excitement With Joe - Again!

Last week Joe wasn't feeling well - it was like a bad cold. After being medicated with a cold medicine with an expectorant, I finally made the decision to take him to the emergency room. He had begun exhibiting symptoms of delusion, hallucinating, running a high temperature, vomiting, etc. After an examination, he was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia and some heart failure.

This is what he looked like when he was taking one of his brief naps. (That'll teach him to go to sleep).

How do you like his "tiger paw" socks?

Here is Joe trying to put his oxygen line back in his nose - backwards...

Here is the end result...

Here he is doing one of his many breathing treatments...he called this smoking his peace pipe... (We found out later that the medicine used in the treatment was one of the contributing factors to his loss of kidney function).

This is his George Washington look. The washclothes were put on his head to cool him after his temperature spiked and just before he was moved to ICU. One of the nurses commented that he looked like George Washington and all he needed was black buckled shoes to go with his white "pantyhose". (He really was sick here, but I couldn't resist taking this picture).

This lovely creature is modeling a new line of white pantyhose that help keep blood clots from forming (and don't you love the cute little dress too)...

At home in his ICU room...

After spending two days here and getting a handle on his pneumonia, Joe was then transferred to another hospital for them to deal with it and his renal failure problem...

All of this has occurred from last Thursday until today (Monday). Though the pictures look deceiving, Joe has been and is still very sick as he is still running high temperatures every afternoon, still battling his pneumonia, trying to get his kidneys functioning semi-normally, etc. I just want him home.

(And he was released finally on Tuesday evening to return home).