BMT Day +101 Regaining her voice … some come closer, some stay away

Three good days in a row!

In reprocessing the harrowing memories of her week in the MICU with the psychologist, it has become clear that being intubated and placed on a ventilator was unequivocally the lowest point of Teri’s entire 472 day ordeal.  Through the 236 days of hospitalization, in her weakened state, she had progressively lost her autonomy.  She was placed in isolation disallowing free access.  She required help to walk, to go to the bathroom or commode, to get into bed, to get drinks, even to feed herself.  Yet in the MICU, tethered to the bed by hand restraints, arterial and central venous tubes in her arm and neck, and an ET (phone home) and NG tube in her mouth, she lost her voice, the last vestige of autonomy, her ability to express herself.  That was the last straw.

When her voice came back, it was at first inaudible, then progressively raspy, and weak, now has a forced hoarseness.  But she is regaining her voice and with it her self. 

Some come closer … some stay away

Some of our friends and family have become incredibly supportive throughout this ordeal, both in spirit and in presence, in ways we could never have anticipated.  Some did so even when they didn’t know Teri or I that well ... I don’t know why exactly.  It has been remarkable to me that even the next generation (nieces) have wanted to be here and now for her. 

Some have drifted away.  I also don’t know why without asking.  But I do know, from my own experience, that it is simply hard to come daily and observe immense pain etched into Teri’s face, a body totally ravaged and distorted by cancer, and a psychically-depleted person devoid of spark that I barely recognize.  Most of all, being with Teri is a stark and disquieting mirror to our own vulnerability and mortality, in which one fragile life can be snatched away, and that image of ourselves as we know it can dissipate in an instant.