November 24, 2009

• Dare to breathe

  
  

  
  I've been holding my breath so long that I've forgotten how it feels to breathe. To draw breath so deep into your lungs that you feel giddy, light headed and fresh. To push it all out in a rush.... There's something so primal yet peaceful about long, strong pulls that make your belly pop up (G'daughter's CeCe's observation).

  I've been afraid... afraid that if I breathe too deep all the pain inside would spill in great flowing currents from my soul. The private me would be exposed. And that wouldn't do, wouldn't do at all. But the pain has subsided and the bits that remain have hardened, clinging tenaciously to my heart. No amount of huffing and puffing can dislodge the stubborn hangers on. It grates like sandpaper these remnants; a constant reminder of the once overwhelming fear and grief.

  And now... this.

  I have written before of my Hubby's penchant for flirting with death.  I've nearly lost him so many times that it seems foolish to even count. But I do. He continues to dally daily with a currently stable issue that could become unstable without warning. That is "whole 'nother story". Recently... about the beginning of October, H experienced some cold/flulike symptoms. He appeared to shake them off within a week to ten days same as any time before. However, about seven days after the last symptoms seemed to fade, H began to notice a weakness in his legs, which quickly developed into tremors upon exertion. This was accompanied by a constant state of vertigo/nausea. He went to his doctor who said.... "Must be an ear infection"... gave him meds. No improvement. Returned to doc who made an appointment with a neurologist who wouldn't be able to see him for more than a month. He continued to worsen to the point where he was fast becoming non ambulatory due to the tremors and disorientation. He was unable to eat due to the nausea.

  I was worried because H was worried. This man never worries... never. But this had him scared beyond words. He ended up having an emergency MRI because the doc was afraid that H may have had a stroke. The results showed absolutely nothing (no gratuitous empty head jokes please). He was then able to get a much sooner appointment with a different neurologist who finally diagnosed him with residual complications from H1N1 (huh?)  In a nutshell... H's body was attacking his brain, specifically in the vision and motor balance centers. It is an auto-immune dysfunction. Once the inciting agent is removed (H1N1 virus) he will most likely (MOST LIKELY?) return to normal.

  Then the guy slips this in, slick, almost as an after thought.. "If not, then it is a  cancer elsewhere in the body and then we will have to do a PET scan to confirm and discuss treatment for that at a future time."

  Looks as if H has cheated the reaper again. He is improving slowly. Very slowly. Both doctors feel that it will be closer to the New Year before H begins to feel more normal. His total exhaustion is painful to see. He refuses to use his cane anymore. I can tell when he is particularly tired because he begins to wobble and move like a stick... you know... he turns his whole body rather than his head only, think Godzilla of the 1960's.

  Just when I thought it was safe to breathe.

  • 7:07 PM
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