About the Rest of that Ride

Saturday morning, we headed out to ride the roads. First destination was an ice cream shop, because one of the guys was bemoaning the fact that he didn’t get his ice cream the night before and others knew of a creamery in a town somewhere north of where we were staying. Rain was threatening, but after studying the radar, we figured we could get a few hours of riding in before the thunderstorms moved in again. Around every curve was a different perspective. Sometimes we seemed to be heading into decent weather, then round another curve and there were some scary clouds ahead. Some of the clouds were getting pretty dark, so eventually I pulled the pack over in a small town so we could put on rain gear. I put on full rain gear as I hadn’t brought an extra pair of jeans and really didn’t want to get the ones I was wearing wet, others put on a jacket or just chose to keep riding how they were currently dressed. It worked for all of us, as when we headed back out, the heavy clouds went somewhere else, and we didn’t get rained on. We reached our destination a half hour before they opened, so we just hung out for a while since ice cream was on the agenda and nobody wanted to ride away without getting some. Who knew when there would be another opportunity and nobody wanted to take that chance. Some took the opportunity to explore the town a bit. Since walking is not my strong suit right now, I just hung out with my bike and indulged in a Diet Coke and a smoke.

Good thing we were just hanging out instead of riding at that moment when I got a call from the Memory Care Facility where my husband was. It seemed they found him on the floor by his bed. His oxygen level was in the 70’s and he needed to go to the hospital. They asked if I was going to take him or whether they should call for transport. I told them I was 3-4 hours away on my motorcycle so they would have to call for an ambulance. I was somewhat distressed when I got off the phone. I updated my friends and discussed what I should do. I really wanted to be there for him because particularly in his state, that whole experience was going to be pretty traumatic for him. But I was 3+ hours away. I couldn’t really be there in time to be at his side while he was going through that and by the time I could get there, they would be done testing and diagnosing and either admitting him or sending him back to Memory Care where they could take care of him. I called his son, let him know and asked him if he could go be with his dad and keep me updated. He said “sure.” I felt a whole lot better about the situation after that conversation and decided that at this point, I would just carry on and wait to see what happens at the ER.

After we got our ice cream the weather was clearing and it looked like we could ride for a while. So we planned a route with a couple stops on the way, so I could keep track of what was happening with my husband. One of my favorite rides in southern Minnesota is alongside a river, through the valley with a different view of the river, the bluffs, and forests in the area. This area is a particular favorite of bicycles and motorcycles alike. It was as beautiful as ever and man, I love those curves of the road winding back and forth with the river.

Our last stop before heading back to the cabin was at the grocery store. Again, I waited on my bike while the others shopped for dinner. Perfect timing. A call, this time from the nurse in the ER with my husband. He told me that my husband had two fractured ribs (most likely from a fall earlier in the week and that he had developed pneumonia. Since he still needed to be on oxygen they were going to admit him, get him some pain control and start him on antibiotics. He couldn’t leave the hospital until they got his oxygen levels back up to the point where he no longer needed oxygen. Given that information, I agreed that admitting him was the thing that needed to be done. I told the nurse that I was on my way back to our cabin and would pack up my things and head back to the Cities. I asked him to let my husband know that I would be there in about four hours or so to see him. I knew in my heart that he needed me to be there with him, given the scary things that were happening to him. We’ve always been there for each other whenever one of us needs the other’s love and strength. The interesting thing is that I felt no panic or anxiety about what was happening with him. I knew he was in the right place where he could get the care he needed. The entire day I had been experiencing that calm and peace that recently emerged again in my life. Initially when the first call came in, I was a bit stunned that it was that serious of a call, but it took only a few minutes after the call, talking with my friends to process it, make a plan and go with the flow. My only concern was my husband’s emotional state.

I have been learning a lot about a person’s “end of life” process through my recent experiences of my dad and my son’s end of life and the long goodbye in my husband’s current end of life process, which he really isn’t cognitive enough to fully understand that he’s now walking that final path. Alice has, and still is, been the single most instrumental person helping me navigate this path. She shared her experiences of her own losses, the knowledge she’s gained from caring for family members during their end of life, from the funeral home she worked at where she observed many forms of family dynamics during grief, from her certification as an End Of Life Doula and her commitment to be an End Of Life Doula for both my husband and me. This may seem to be gruesome to talk about for some people, but face the facts…we all get to that End Of Life process and each person’s process is as unique as they are.

The single biggest thing I learned and took to heart is this:

The End of Life Process is Sacred

What this means for me is that it is my loved one’s path to walk, not mine. It’s their process and I have no control over it nor can I even consider it my right to interfere with such a Sacred process. It’s between them and their “God” with no place for me at the table. Essentially, it is what it is, and it’s inevitable. That doesn’t mean I walk away. Our love for each other means that I will be beside them all the way to support them in any way I can, advocate for treatment when it makes sense and lovingly walk by their side only for what they need from me. What I need doesn’t belong here. I get that need met separately. I can’t put that onto their shoulders, just to relieve my own shoulders. Not this time. That is my burden of love and only mine. My love requires me to take this one on the chin with dignity and grace.

Love and Peace

Chick