Remembering

I write this to remember.  It has been a difficult journey and I know it will be harder without John's big, strong, hands holding me up.  John always made me feel special....his "bride".

Saturday started as a beautiful day.  John and I had lots of things that needed to be done because Lauren was flying in from St. Louis that evening.  Though he was having trouble with swelling in his legs and feet, his health seemed to be improving.  The mass in his lung had decreased by 3 cm., a significant change, and his breathing was so much better.  I hadn't said much about all of that on the blog as he wanted to tell Meredith and Lauren himself...to finally be able to give them some good news.

I was in the garage working on getting the furnace closet in order.  Yes, our furnace had to be replaced during all of this.  John had it serviced when the weather changed and the inspector told him there was a CO2 leak in the unit and he had to shut it down until it was repaired.  Luckily, we have two separate units, one for each end of the house.....and, the weather cooperated, we didn't have any cold weather during the installation process.  The new unit was installed and completed that Friday.  "Don't pay for the furnace till the inspector comes and says everything has been installed properly," he said.

Fall Saturdays are football days and John already had his line up.  A beautiful, crisp, day and plenty of good football.  Only thing that could possibly make it better for him was to be with friends at the river.  But Lauren was coming and he was already planning dinner for her on Sunday.

Saturday afternoon, while I was working on getting the furnace closet clean and back in order, John came to the door and said he felt like his heart was beating too fast, would I come check it?  We have a blood pressure cuff and it will give the heart rate also.  I sat down with him and put the cuff on.  158 beats per minute!  What was going on? I tried it again, 163.  A normal range is around 60-70 beats per minute when resting.  I called the doctor, he thought maybe John was dehydrated and it was causing his heart to work harder.  "Have him drink plenty of fluids and continue to monitor his heart rate.  If it hasn't slowed within an hour, call me.  We may need to get him to the hospital," the doctor said.  John was having problems with staying hydrated, so I lined the Gatorade up and he started chugging.  Maybe that would do it, but I was still worried.

John had several chores on the farm that needed to be completed and once something was on his mind, it had to be done.  Checque helped on the farm as needed and stopped by after lunch to check in.  Poor Checque, in broken English, he asked how John was doing and I just fell apart, tears and sobbing.  He stood there seemingly helpless, but wanting to do something.  He wanted to see John, but I told him John didn't feel well.  He comforted me and said he would come back soon.

I tried not to worry while we waited, but there was fear, his heart couldn't continue at this intense rate.  We periodically checked his heart rate and nothing changed.  After an hour, we called the doctor again and off we go to the hospital.

While driving to the emergency room, I had a craving for a milkshake, we had missed lunch.  John had been drinking lots of shakes the past few days because they soothed his throat, had lots of calories, and were just plain good.  All of which he needed since having the radiation to his throat and chest. So, when he got one, I did too.  And I really wanted one.  "Go on and get a milkshake, 2 more minutes won't make a difference," he said.  So we quickly zipped through McDonald's and I got a vanilla milkshake.  As soon as we drove out, he laughed and said, "I can't wait to tell everybody we were on our way to the Emergency Room, my heart racing, and you went to McDonald's drive thru for a milkshake."

To be continued....
PCQ