Friday and Saturday

I woke early Friday morning, and it was still dark. I looked around the room not sure where I was. I sat looking at the wall watching the hands on the clock move, knowing that I should know what time it was, but time didn’t mean much to me anymore. I couldn’t read the clock, I knew what “time” was, but the numbers meant nothing.  Morning, night and everything in between meant nothing; it was all about the present. It took me a while every morning that first week to reset and realize what was going on.  The doctors said that after what I had gone through that this was normal and to be expected.

The drugs were still at it, and I don’t remember much of Friday other than I had a doctor’s visit later that afternoon and I was under a false impression that if I checked out good, they were going to let me go home for the weekend. My checkup went fine but going home for the weekend was not an option that was off the table. I was not happy; I was ready to go home and told Deb so. She played it off and said that’s ok, Cody and Annette are planning to visit you here tomorrow so you wouldn’t want to miss that. The visit sounded fun, so I calmed down some. I was still hoping for a drink of whisky.

I woke up Saturday morning early ready for the visit, when my favorite male nurse Marquis came in, I told him to make me look good today I had some old friends coming to visit me today. He said he had been told about that and seemed very happy for me. When we were done getting ready for the day Marquis dropped me off at breakfast.

Breakfast did not go well; all the nurses were busy so I thought I would try to feed myself. I only had partial movements on my right side (so not much really) and I ended up wearing or dropping most of mt food on the floor. I don’t know if it was policy or just tough love but once the nurses seen that I was trying to do it myself they didn’t help much, well, not at all, but they helped clean me up. So, I went away hungry and a little pissed, but I wasn’t going to let it spoil the day; I had friends coming. Soon Marquis came back to get me, and I asked him if he knew if Deb and my friends were here yet and he said that visiting hours don’t start until 10 o’clock on the weekend, so I had time for a couple treatments. My first one was starting in 35 mins, and it was just down the hall, so he just parked me next to an old fellow in a black ballcap. I was disappointed, I just wanted to go back to my room and pout in private.

I just sat there watching everyone walk by, when the old fellow parked next to me started to talk. “Hey buddy, do you know where we are?” I answered, “I think we are in Wichita, I think the place is called Wesley rehab.”  He answered, “ok, I think I’ve been here before but I’m not sure.” He told me how his son had left him here, but he thought he would be right back. I said that’s good. It went quite for a minute than he started talking again “Hey buddy, do you know where we are?” We had the same conversation four or five times in a row when I finally seen Marquis down the hallway, I yelled “Hey, Marquis, I need to go to my room.” He answered, “No, I think you’re good there.” I just looked at him and said “Marquis!” He dropped his head and said, “Ok, I got you” and took me back to my room without saying another word.

The morning seemed to take forever. Later that morning I seen Marquis again he said, “Man you’re not going to like this, but Debbie just called and said she was running late today, and your friends plans changed and they aren’t going to make it in today.” Well, damn, this is a crappy day so far, I thought to myself.  As he was taking me back to the lobby to wait for lunch I looked up at Marquis and said please don’t put me by the guy with the black hat. He just smiled and said gotcha.   It was nothing against the man, it was a bit too much reality for me at that point.

He sat me by the window by myself; I just sat in my chair watching everyone in the room. An older guy walked over and pulled up a chair and said, “My name is Chuck, what’s your story?”  I wasn’t in the mood to talk, but he seemed nice and I didn’t want to be rude, so I kept it short. “Well, I had a bad reaction to covid, was ventilated, had a stroke and now I’m paralyzed and still on oxygen.” He just looked at me and said, “That’s too bad, I’m sorry to hear that; everyone here has a sad story.” He went on to explain his story about how he had broken his back in a car wreck.  When he finished telling me about his story, he went on to tell me about every person in the room and their stories. He was right, every story was tragic and sad. He went on to say, “This place is great, it’s my second time here. They will work you, but if you listen and do the work, they can help. You just need to stay positive and go to extra sessions when you can.”  He went on to explain that this was going to be his last weekend, and he was going to be able to leave Monday and stay with a friend that was helping him to fix his truck. Even though I didn’t think I needed it, I appreciated his advice.

Deb got there before lunch. I was still very frustrated with her about the morning even though it was not her fault, I gave her the cold shoulder for a while anyway. When lunch came, Deb helped me with it, but she still made me try to do most of it myself. It was a much better lunch; I even got ice cream.

After lunch we had the afternoon to ourselves, no more treatment for the day. It was nice. Deb pushed me around in the wheelchair and gave me a tour of the campus; it was a big place. When we got back to the room, I don’t remember what brought it on, but I looked at her and said, “People have been praying for us, I can feel it.” Deb just looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “Yes, Casey a lot of people have been praying for us, I can feel it too.” She pulled out a box full of get-well cards full of goodwill wishes and prayers for a quick recovery.  As she read me the cards, I am not ashamed to say there was not a dry eye in the room. The messages gave me goosebumps. After we read most of them, we took a break to recover a bit. A few minutes later Deb said. “There is not a good time for this, but I found out today that your nephew Rodney passed away this morning.” My immediate response was, “No, from what.” Deb said that they didn’t know yet. Even though Rodney and I weren’t very close and I hadn’t seen him in years, I cried. I have flashbacks of Rodney, our little ring bearer, coming down the aisle at our wedding.  How, the day before the welding he asked me “what’s that?” as he pointed to Christ on the cross. I didn’t know if I was the guy to explain to him or if it was even my place to answer.  So, I did my best to try to explain in a way a young special needs child would understand.  It went well and it is a moment I will never forget.   It was an emotional taxing day. After dinner the nurses hoisted me in bed so I could stretch out and get more comfortable. As Deb and I relaxed we heard a knock on the door. Debbie answered it, there were two older ladies standing there, they explained that they were from the local Catholic Church a few blocks away and they would like to pray with me and asked if we would take communion. Deb and I looked at each other in disbelief. I was still not doing very well and was extremely weak, I was very thankful for their support. I thanked them and said that I would be honored to pray with them. I explained that my wife and kids were Catholic, but that I had never been baptized into the church, so I didn’t know if I should take communion. They just looked at each other and smiled and said, “It’s ok, you can take communion with us.” We prayed together; it was nice. As I took communion lying in bed I was flooded with energy, my skin began to tingle, a feeling like I never felt before overwhelmed me. I took a big breath, said Amen, and thanked them. As the ladies left the room, I looked at Deb and said, “It’s going to be ok. I can feel it.”

It was getting close to bedtime, so the nurses came back in and put me back in the wheelchair. After they took me to the bathroom I sat with Deb some more and she asked if I would like to try to brush my teeth and comb my hair and I said that I would try. She rolled me to the sink; there was a very large mirror behind it. It was the first time I had seen myself in over three weeks.  I didn’t recognize myself. I sat there in disbelief; it was like I was looking at an 80-year-old version of myself (my dad). My face and eyes were drawn in, my beard and hair were long and wild, and my teeth were yellow. My eyes were wild looking, like wild animals’ eyes. I looked at myself for a minute and thought to myself Wow! What happened to you, you have really been put through the ringer. I looked down at myself, my big muscles were gone; before covid I was 245 pounds, I sat there at around 170 pounds. I lifted my shirt and looked at my belly, it was gone too, I liked that.  Trying to find the positive, when Debbie rolled me out of the bathroom, I showed her my runner’s belly, we both laughed.

We said goodnight and Deb went home.  I took my meds and went to sleep as my lady in purple watched from the corner.