My Life...

March 2019

2.13 am. Wednesday. ST Vincent Hospital. 6th March 2019.

Since early Tuesday afternoon, my wife has been in pain. By early evening, we had a doctor come over to check her out. She was diagnosed with Aspirate Pneumonia. Called an ambulance and by about 10 pm last night, she was admitted to Saint Vincent Emergency. This is where I am now....keeping her company while she sleeps. Already I can see her face calm. She is relaxed and seems to be no longer in pain. She wakes up every now and then and when she does, I assure her that all is well. Being in the hospital with someone you hold dear and is unwell is comforting...you know that all that is needed to make her well again, is being done.

2.40 am. The doctor just came in to check and have a look at her and spent time talking me through what was happening to her., what has happened to her, and what they were doing to her to make her better. At her age (75) at best, they will try to make her comfortable. I listened and learned....learned that this is what life is really about...being with someone you love through sickness and in health.

I have had no dinner and should be tired, but I am not. A few minutes ago, the nurse who came to check her blood pressure asked if I wanted some sandwiches and a coffee. I said no thanks but said a pen and a paper would be appreciated. She said "not a problem" and in two shakes of a hippo tail...here I am writing!

We are still in Emergency, but we have a room. All of her vital signs are being monitored....and I am told, that at best, it will take two or three days of hospital care to get her well...or maybe a week...and so for now, I will wait.

The next morning, the doctors told me that they did not think that my wife will live. The next 48 hours were crucial, and even if she lived that long, they were of the opinion that, at most, she will have a few more days left before she dies. I was standing beside her bed as I listened to what they were telling me. It was early in the morning at St Vincent Hospital, Melbourne. The doctor had come, with four other young interns, to examine my wife and to tell me the grim prognosis. I was alone.

I listened without a word, trying to make some sense of what the doctor was saying. I heard the word "die" and I remember clearly the doctor telling me that the time frame of 48 hours as being crucial....and as I listened to his words, I wanted him and the interns to leave so that I can try to get my head together and make myself ready for what is to come.

My first decision was not to tell my son that his mother just had days left to live. I told my daughter in Canada that her mother was gravely ill. Then I had to get my mind around what the doctor just told me...that the girl I married when I was 21 and she was 23, after 52 years of being together, was leaving me.

I have been married to my dear wife from the time I was 21 and she 23. By any criteria, that is a hell of a long time. Nothing much has changed between us...physically older...but if at all possible, I love her more.

You learn how fragile life can be, and you brace yourself for whatever is to come. Life is what you make of it, and for me, life is what I now have with those that I love, especially with the love of my life...my dear wife. Given the condition of my wife, the nurse tells me that they do not usually come across a situation where someone on my wife's age and in her condition (advanced dementia) is still being cared for at home by her loved ones. For me and my son, we would not have it any other way, but they also told me that given her advanced age and her condition, "If she goes into intensive care....she will not come out of it" A sobering thought at 3 am.

Two days later: 5.01 am. The nurse told me that while I was at home taking a break, my wife's oxygen level fell to 89/90. Anything below 95, I am told, is not good. They put her on oxygen. Twenty minutes later, it has gone up to 99. Good.

Three days later: Her heartbeat throughout the night has been too high...average 136...as high as 161. It should be under 100. She seems to have slept well but did wake up too often and when she does, I make sure that she sees me there for her. I know that she knows I am there as I can see her acknowledge my presence through her facial expressions....and I always whispered in her ears "Please get well honey... I want to take you home". Breakfast ...she has not eaten for 24 hours and was hungry. Ate too much. Too fast. My fault for allowing same. Mini emergency. She had difficulty breathing and the nurses came to tend to her. Oxygen etc. Took an hour to get things back to normal. Lessons learned...slow.

She left us in the early hours of the morning of her fourth day in St Vincent. I was sleeping on a chair beside her...was awakened by a premonition. She was quiet. Too quiet. I reached out to touch her face and knew that she was no longer with us. I called over to my son sleeping nearby and our three friends, Far, Nazla and Remy who had been with us all the while....and we all gathered around her and waited for the Doctor to come and confirmed what we already knew...a decent life lived well, was gone....but... life for me and my son, lived on. Such is life.