Sweet Dreams, Sweetheart

Blog 2308 – 02.17.2022

Sweet Dreams, Sweetheart

I have heard that the best and most enjoyable way to live this life is as a slightly detached observer. Some even go so far as to say that this life as we know it, “is but a dream.”

For sometime my beloved wife who suffered some sort of break with reality a weak ago has had recurring nightmares that woke her from a sound sleep and left her shaking, nightmares about zombies, werewolves, a vampires all trying to devour her. My beloved Linda Lee has had more than her share of trials and tragedies in this life. She lost her beloved older brother Harold to suicide when she was a young woman in college miles away from home. In her mid thirties she lost her left breast to cancer and went trough a grueling period of healing after having breast reconstruction where they took an abdominal muscle and moved it under the skin to replace the missing breast tissue. Some years later she also lost the right breast to cancer and had a back flap procedure, with an equally painful and long healing process. Between those two horrendous mile stones in her life, we met again, she got pregnant, we married at almost forty years of age, and we had a wonderful healthy and handsome baby boy. When Jonathan was about three she got it in her head that since she was afraid that she and I, already about to turn forty-three, would not be around long after he was grown, that he needed a sibling or two.

Since I had had a vasectomy and she had recurring endometriosis that meant we both would need surgery and even then pregnancies after forty are tricker to pull off and take to full term. I ended up getting two out patient vasectomy reversals and she a DNC and she had to take shots in the posterior of hormones that I her loving hubby had to administer. Linda got pregnant twice more, but lost both little baby daughters just a few months into each pregnancy. She heard the heartbeats, felt the babies inside her, but could never hold those little ones in her arms. She has been haunted ever since by those losses more than any of the others in her life. Sometimes the invisible scars are the most hauntingly painful ones.

A few weeks ago Linda was diagnosed with shingles, a painful disorder of nerves effected by a resurgence of the dormant chickenpox virus that supposedly lives in everyone who has ever had chickenpox. It exhibits itself as a serious blistering and quite painful rash on the skin along nerve paths usually on predominantly one side of the neck, face, shoulders and chest. Linda’s doctor prescribed a course of two medications, one for pain and one an antiviral antibiotic to fight the shingles virus. She was to take both pills twice a day for seven days.

About half way into the treatment she seemed at first to start having a bit of trouble telling apart what she had dreamed or just thought from reality. Her mom and I just thought the medication was making her a little goofy.

But a week ago this morning, two days after finishing the medicine, our Linda lost touch with reality in a scary way and her radical behavior forced me and our son to take her to the nearest hospital emergency room against her will for evaluation and treatment.

Linda has, as long as I have known her, been a very private person not wanting her business shared with anyone. It has been the most emotionally demanding time in my life this week of a medical hospital trying to find a physiological cause for Linda’s dissociative, paranoid, and confused behavior. She has refused to eat or drink or allow them to treat her most of that time, actually since the first day in the ED (Emergency Department) where they were able to run almost all the tests needed to rule out any physical cause – CATScan, blood, and urine test, even a lumbar puncture to evaluate her spinal fluid, and a MRI, a better picture of her brain. All these test came back normal for a woman Linda’s age.

Last night, actually very early this morning, I got a phone call from the hospital advising me that Linda was being moved to a psychiatric care facility. It was a process that took a couple of days because it required a judge’s order, being involuntary.

I just called the facility to learn what I can about how she is doing, how they plan to get her to eat and drink, her treatment, her room number, and when I, family, and friends can visit her. I learned a few things from the facility’s web site already.

It is difficult even for one like myself, who considers himself an objective observer, a writer, to not get emotionally devastated or washed away because all this is happening to my sweetheart, my sweetest dream. How I wish I was the prince in her dream with that magic kiss and could awaken her from her nightmares. All I can do at this point is “stand on her steps with my heart in my hand.” But that I intend to do till my Baby wakes up.

Your friend and fellow traveler,

David White



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