The beginning of a tough road.

I’m no writer, nor have I had attended any writing classes. I do know that I need to write my story to help mend a broken heart and soul.

My July 4th holiday started like all others. I had the day off from work and was looking forward to a relaxing day with the family. About 10:30 am I was having my morning coffee when the ringing phone echoed in the family room. I picked it up in the kitchen and was slingshotted, if that’s a word, into the worst week of my life to date.

On the other end of the phone was my wife’s doctor telling me that I needed to get her to the emergency room as soon as possible because the blood work and ultrasound tests she had taken a day before came back with some worrying results.

Let me give a quick run down of what lead to my wife having to take any tests in the first place. She was an alcoholic who knew she was in need of help. No matter how bad the fights were and how many times I slept in the car just to get away from a night of verbal battles and get some sleep in order to get to work early the next day, the drinking continued. One beautiful Saturday or Sunday morning, can’t really remember what day it was, but it was a weekend morning, she decided to carry on her previous nights drinking and passed out in our summer heated garage. I had left to go on a early morning hike only to get a call from my 22 year old son while on my way home telling me she was passed out on the garage floor almost dehydrated. He got her into bed where she slept through the day into the early evening only to wake up and continue to sip her wine. Which was her drink of choice.

Her drinking had gone on for quite of few years but didn’t really get bad until about 2008 when we made a move to the outskirts of Las Vegas where I took a job transfer. The job paid well enough to where she didn’t really need to work, that didn’t help the situation at all.

Anyway, fast forward to the 4th of July phone call from her doctor. She had been seeing her doctor pretty frequently at this point because of her appearance. She was beginning to get the Yellow Jaundice look and was have problemw with feet a leg swellings. I got her into the emergency room and the doctors immediately went to work poking and prodding. They ran more test, took blood and vitals and after of about an hour or so told us they were admitting her for atleast an overnight stay. Prior to moving her upstairs the doctor came in to discuss the results of all the tests. He said the words I didn’t want to hear, “Her liver is failing”. A tear rolled down my face as I took those words in and was thinking of where I was going to bury my wife. Would I do it here in Nevada or take her home to where she grew up and she was a happy little girl. Yes, I’m delinberately not going to mention where that is just for privacy issues. She prayed, I prayed and her mother, who was at the hospital with me, prayed.

So, the overnight stay turns into a five night stay of a lot more poking and proddying and a steady heavy flow of vitamins and about 13 units of blood. She was on her menstrual cycle at the time and was bleeding heavily, that might be an understatement. About the third day the doctors had most of her issues under control and came in with some final results. Somehow a miracle happened, she still had liver function and could continue to live a normal life as long as she quits drinking, all the alcoholic sees or hears in that statement is “still has liver function”. The doctors said they don’t know how she turned things arournd but it’s nothing short of a miracle. All I can think was, she prayed, I prayed and her mother prayed and god heard and gave my wife a second chance. What else could it be?

To be continued.