The worst part of sleeping now is waking up. When I open my eyes in the morning I immediately start breathing faster for I quickly remember that we are still in the shadow of death. What a wrong and lonely feeling that is, I cannot even describe it in words! I feel so crushed and yet I have to keep going in faith, since all miracles are preceded by faith first. So, faith and hope are the foundations I am building myself on every morning. Also, of course, charity. Without charity I would not be able to spend 6 hours a day by my husband's side, holding him and praying for him.
I love him, which inevitably leads me to believe in his recovery and hope for better news each day.
It's love that gives me determination to leave Scott at the end of the day with the thermometer showing at least 38 C (100's F). First thing I come in, I demand a bowl of glace (pronounced "glass") which is ice, and lots of cloths. I wipe his legs and arms with icy-cold cloths, the old-fashioned way, I guess, changing them whenever they get warm from his burning body. I go and find medical personnel for every strange beep on Scott's machines. I make those poor nurses who often speak no English give me report explaining to me everything they know. I think they try to avoid me sometimes, but I don't care. I come up to them with a piece of paper and have them write down all the medications Scott is on, so I can research what exactly they are for.
July 30 - Saturday
Vent O2 - 85%, blood O2 - 98%. Yesterday the reading was the same, which really made me happy. Not worse - good news! I could actually eat some lunch during my break.
Donna (a British lady form the Nice Ward, a friend of Karen) picked me up today and we spend together my 3 to 6 break. We just chatted and ate at the Brasserie (French Restaurant). She is ever so understanding, cheerful and optimistic! I need people like that around me to lift up my broken spirit and let me partake of normal life: healthy people, living plants, raging Mediterranean, traffic jams, gelatos (Italian ice-cream)...
I am back at the hospital and continue our battle. Only it does not look like a battle. It's quiet here. I breath in one accord with the breathing machine. What a wonderful time we live in! Just think about it: we are surrounded by so many miracles, like this ventilator, or antibiotics, or CT scans. These amazing machines along with doctor's knowledge and help from God are able to bring my sweetheart back to me. I still plan on that. I love him too much to think otherwise. Even if it takes lonely days without my kiddos, a bunch of gray hair, and a new addiction to Valium. I'll take it and I won't give up. Please, God, heal him!
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