That Thin Line Between Life and Death
A Christmas miracle, nine lives
"Death smiles at us all, all a man can do is smile back."
— Marcus Aurelius, Roman emperor.
Bill’s dad had finished his coffee and headed out to check the oil in the old motor home before they took off which left Bill and I sitting at the kitchen table with Bill’s Mom. It was the beginning of camping season 2002. Bill’s parents had stopped for a brief visit on their way to tour the U.P. Their favorite destination spot was an RV campground on the shores of Lake superior.
Bills mom sat silent for a few minutes, her fingers wrapped gingerly around her coffee cup. She took on a far away look for a few seconds. “You know life is like a slow walk up a hill,” she lamented, “slowly you pull the toboggan to the top of the hill behind you, when you get there and finally climb on the toboggan in an instant it slams you to the ground and the ride is over. Take care of your health, kids, be sure you take care of your health.” She got up from the table, put her coffee cup in the sink and went outdoors to find Dad. Her cryptic message to us was her way of letting us know she was sick. In 4 short years later she was gone. This dear woman had been fighting colon cancer for years, she strictly forbade Dad from telling any of us.
She was right, you know, lots of people are getting slammed. Over the course of the next 10 years we lost on average 3 people a year, 2 sisters,(1 of his and 1 of mine) 2 Dads( his and mine), various uncles and aunts, cousins, friends, acquaintances and neighbors. It seemed like people were dropping like flies. These poor souls were stricken with cancer, heart conditions, falls, accidents and other conditions and damage detrimental to the human body. Then one day out of the blue that sick monster came to visit our house.
Bill had been in bed feeling like he had the flu since Friday. Suddenly I heard him hollering for me from the back deck. I found myself enjoying being out in the yard on this warm August Sunday afternoon playing in the garden. “You gotta take me to the hospital.” He demanded, as he bent over clutching his stomach. “Somethings not right, we gotta go now!” He was weak, short of breath, and his skin was an odd sort of gray color. He was in so much pain he could barely get himself into the car. I was scared! What had seemed like the flu had morphed into a full blown crisis.
When we arrived at the hospital the first thing they did was triage him. The nurse asked a bunch of questions then hooked him up to a blood pressure machine. “That can’t be right, it must be broken,” She claimed. On a recheck from different machine, she was shocked and immediately put him into a wheel chair and rushed him back to emergency. His blood pressure was 84 over 50, the first blood pressure machine had not malfunctioned.
Doctor came into the room, doctor left the room another doctor came in and then he left. Labs were taken and then an x-ray. Less than 2 hours later nurses and doctors were rushing him in to emergency surgery. It all happened so fast.
Once the surgeon had the scopes in his chest, he could see the gallbladder. It was so full of stones and gunk that the gallstones had closed off most all of the blood flow to it creating the perfect condition for gangrene to thrive. Bill had a gangrenous gallbladder, the surgeon told us later. Now to save his life he needed to remove the thing which turned out to be a very difficult proposition due to the fact that half the organ had turned to jelly. The gangrenous toxins escaped despite the surgeons best efforts and began surging throughout Bill’s body. It was so toxic the doctors couldn’t believe that Bill had had no symptoms until he became sick on Friday. The surgeon said “worse case I’ve seen he was a miracle, a miracle he survived.”
Bill’s whole body was now septic. Toxic nasties cursing his veins hell bent on destroying his organs and body. Transferring him into ICU my dear husband coded and his heart stopped. The ICU doctors scrambled to bring him back to us. Heavy stillness in that that narrow space between life and death, I could feel his mothers essence in the room waiting to take him home. Please, Helen, not today, not today.
https://www.cdc.gov/sepsis/what-is-sepsis.html
For 11 days in ICU his body fought to stay alive, a ventilator doing the breathing for him. A chemical induced coma so the surge of antibiotics and various other medicines could do their work undisturbed. There his body lay, 15 IV’s full of life saving medicine running into his arms and groin area. A few days later 2 more ports were created in his upper shoulder area for even more medicine. At one point the nurses and doctors were buzzing around his room trying to bring down a fever of 106.5. More medicine, more panic. They were successful, however,and by day number 6 his body was still holding its own, his condition having not gotten any worse despite the fever. That was good news, but was *he* still here? It had now been 10 days since Bill had eaten food of any kind. By the time the poor guy was awakened from his coma he was down 80 pounds.
It emotionally rips your heart out to watch your once vibrant loved one lying there motionless, his muscles wasting away, relying absolutely on nurses, doctors and modern science for his very life. One nurse told me that they had already put at least 20 pounds of saline with antibiotics through his system to help flush out the sepsis bacteria. That’s a lot of flushing and they weren’t done yet.
I was sitting next to my husband lying in his mechanical hospital bed one evening mesmerized by the rhythmic beeps, and humming of the computerized machines keeping his body alive when I suddenly remembered an article I had read a few months earlier of an experimental treatment for sepsis. I left the hospital a little earlier than normal this night, went straight home to fire up my computer determined to find the information on this unproven treatment.
Sure enough, I found it. Vitamin C, B1 and cordisteroids, the combination was new and experimental but it turned out there was plenty of information and doctors were already using it in some hospitals to treat sepsis patients. Bill’s ICU doctor was agreeable to give it a try after pointing out to me that this was not FDA approved. Am I sure I want to do this?
To make this dramatic long story a little shorter, after another 10 days in the hospital he was moved to a nursing home for a two week stint of rehabilitating his weakened body.
It had been quite the toboggan ride since August of 2018,the real miracle that year was we got to celebrate Christmas with him. The sad part is he had and still has a month of no memory. A hole in his life, he calls it. Drug induced coma, sedation medication and pain medication took away most of his summer memory. And then just 3 days before Christmas Bill was rushed to a Green Bay hospital for pacemaker to help his failing heart muscle. Sepsis is an evil monster.
Fast forward to 2023 and many, many doctor and specialist visits each with their own special treatment and tests, he is diagnosed with prostate cancer and stage 4 lymphoma.
“What did you do in a previous life that you have so much karma to burn off in this life?” I half seriously asked him. “No one should have to suffer this much.”
A year of the chemo monster and other treatments, plus an emergency four hour helicopter ride for a special surgery that couldn’t be done at our tiny rural hospital, he is still here. Looks like we get to have him another Christmas season. His cancer has been defeated for the moment, and he smiles a lot now. My heart is so very full joy and gratitude. The last 5 years has been like a Hallmark Christmas miracle special on TV.
He is so skinny now. He lost another 20 pounds during Chemo. We had to buy him a new bunch of clothes including under drawers and socks. He looks good, though, as long as you don’t pull up his shirt. He has had his chest opened, his stomach area opened, ports and drainage tube holes and a pacemaker protruding from his shoulder. If you were to see his torso you’d swear he lost a fencing contest with sadistic Zorro fanatic.
It’s been a long few years,there were at least three times he came close to checking out. My biggest fear for months, being that he’d go to sleep one night and just not wake up in the morning. Dear hubby’s toboggan slammed the ground hard several times. Each time he got up brushed himself off and got on with things. He is simply amazing! Most people would have given up by now. Not waking up would have been easier.
The other day one of his many doctors said,
“Seriously, how are you still here?”
He looked the doctor in the eye and said “Because I want to be here. Plus, I didn’t get my honey-do list done.”
The guy is a cat. Nine lives.
Several family members became estranged during the last few years. It is hard to say why they chose not to be supportive and loving, their reasons are their own, I guess. When they cut off all communication I felt hurt and angry, all I wanted from them was a hug and emotional support. I can’t imagine what I could have said or done to them during my emotional anguish of watching my husband dying that could cause them such a fervor.
However, during the thousands of hours sitting at hospitals and doctor offices over the last 5 years, I have heard many stories of family abandonment. We’re not alone it seems. I feel sorry for the ones who have walked away, I send them love they are going to need it. Their life will become lonely and sterile in their future, it always does. History proves that. They will have to live with their actions, there is no recovering time lost. As the evil sickness monster plagues our world who will care and love those who have chosen to distance themselves from their tribe? Americas toboggan is cresting the hill even as we speak. You know it, we see it everywhere. We are not guaranteed tomorrow.
For hubby and me, we have each other for however long we are granted. It will be a Christmas to forever fill our hearts come what may. Food, family and football!!
Many, many hugs to all the doctors and nurses who work so hard in our small rural community. Lots of them are our neighbors and extended family. Nurses are the angel network of a hospital environment. They need hugs too. Thank you.
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