The Ride Home

The ride home

The ride home was surreal; everything seemed just a little different. It’s hard to explain. It seemed like it had been a very, very long time since I had been outside or in a car. Zach turned on his stereo and played a song I had not heard before. It was the “Wellerman Song”. I liked it; I made him put it on repeat. We must have listened to it close to 10 times before Zach had to listen to something else. I was surprised to finally see where I had been staying for almost a month. It was a lot farther from home than I thought. It made me feel guilty to think everyone had to drive so far; every day just to keep me company, let alone my wife and kids, but my 80-year-old mother drove herself there every day. Talk about sacrifice. I thought to myself that I am a very lucky person to have true support like that.

Even though I had seen Zach every other day it seemed like we spent the whole drive just catching up. It was nice until it sunk in that he had quit college to take care of his mom and me. I felt bad; that’s supposed to be my job, he shouldn’t have had to do that, but I was extremely proud of my son.

When we got home it looked great, a little dry, but it was great to be home. By the time I had gotten out of the jeep, Deb was already opening the door to the house and our dogs came bursting out of the house. They all came flying by me and then realized I was home. Our big female black lab dropped her rump to the ground and just started whimpering until it became a loud whine. She rubbed by my leg and ran through the front yard barking loudly as if she was yelling, “he’s home, he’s home”. Our two older, smaller dogs played it cool as they greeted me like it was no big deal, “we knew he would be back”, but the two, year old labs pups’ behavior really surprised me; the male jumped on me and almost knocked me over and then quickly followed his mother barking through the yard, but the young female (Red) came running to me whimpering and shaking as she jumped on me and grabbed me with her front paws as if she was giving me a big hug.  I was taken back by her show of affection, but I was so fragile that it hurt and quickly fatigued me. It took both Zach and Debbie to pull her off me.

I walked to the front step, grabbed the stair rail and climbed the three steps into the house.  When I came in, my old recliner was calling my name. I sat down in my recliner and thought to myself, ‘I’m finally home.’ I only had a short moment of calm before the dogs came rushing back in, Red launched herself onto my lap continuing to shake and whine as Whitey, the male lab, tried to climb up as well. It was chaos, but it was great. We joked that if I had a zipper red would have unzipped me and crawled in. If only it didn’t hurt so badly. I could only stand the pain of Red and Whitey’s love for a few minutes before Deb had to put them outside because we couldn’t keep them off my lap.

After a little rest and catching up, Deb and I went for a walk in the back yard to see how a small wildflower garden had grown up around one of my carvings. The ground was uneven, so I used a cane. It helped, but I quickly realized the slight hill was too much for me and tired me out quickly.  I went back to my lazy boy.

It was Friday night, so that meant high school football. Deb and Zach really wanted me to go but even though I had been a coach for the team a few years back I really wasn’t sure I was up for it. Deb and Zach won out, and we bundled up to go watch a game. I took my cane and walked from the parking lot to the edge of the track. I was a rock star; people came from all around to come shake my hand and say hi. It was heartwarming. When the game started; they walked me to a covered golfcart to sit in and watch the game. Even though we lost, the boys represented well and I enjoyed the game. When the game was over the team came over and made a single file line to shake my hand as they left the field.  My nerves were shot, and I had become an emotional old guy. It took all I had not to cry like a baby, but years of training to not show my emotions paid off, not a single tear was shed in public.  As the players came by, they said hi and told me their stories. I shook everyone’s hands and gave a couple hugs. The coaches came next; I had coached most of them. It was a great gesture and meant a lot.

When we got home Deb showed me a video from earlier that day at school; there had been a pep assembly where they played the video of me walking out of the rehab center on a big screen. The entire school cheered. It gave me goosebumps. After that I walked straight to the bathroom and took a hot shower, not because I was cold, but I was afraid of getting sick again. After thorough cleaning I told Deb I needed to be smarter than that; we can’t expose ourselves like that again. I knew it was paranoia, but it was hard to fight; from that point large crowds make me nervous. The first signs of PTSD syndrome, it is real.

Sleeping was harder than I expected, I was used to sleeping on that air inflated hospital bed that kept my chest raised making it easier to breathe. I really missed that bed. It was great to be home, but I had to fight my anxiety and the dreams were back. Well, we might have overdid the first day back, but I was home! Finally.