January's weather is best in Miami -- lovely cool (er) days and nights, low humidity, and even the ability to use my beloved fire pit at night. Two years ago was typical, and on January 15, 2021, I was walking the 'hood outside, when Wifey called my cell phone -- she needed help.
I came into D2's old room, where she was in bed. She told me she had gotten up early, and "couldn't use my phone keys." She figured she was just tired, and went back to sleep, but when she tried to get to the bathroom upon waking again, she fell. She made her way back to bed and called me. She was totally with it, no pain anywhere, but I asked her to raise her arms. One dropped immediately. I knew she was having a stroke.
I called 911 and went to open the front gate. Comically fast -- like 2 minutes, three paramedics came -- wearing masks, as we were still in intense early Covid times. They were out of central casting -- physically fit and handsome, like they stepped off the ladies' favorite calendars. They assessed Wifey and came to my same conclusion. They started an IV, and walked her out --our driveway is gravel -- actually granite chips -- and not conducive to wheeling stretchers. They got her to the front, put her into the rescue truck, and apologized to me that backing it in, they had crushed some of the brick border. Ay, por favor, I replied, and thanked them -- they were taking her to Baptist in Kendall.
By the time I got there, and got a Covid time exception for visiting, they had her seen in the ED and a neurologist decided it was too late after symptom onset to do the clot busting therapy. But the neuro knew quickly is seemed to not be a devastating stroke, which the MRI done later that am confirmed.
Still, they admitted her, and she was in Baptist for 4 days. They figured out the cause. Wifey always had low blood pressure, and years before a cardiologist who long since had lost his license on account of medicare billing issues had put her on high sodium and a drug to increase her BP. Well, weight gain and time raised her BP more, and it became dangerously high -- not picked up by the docs Wifey had decided to switch to. But the good news is that it wasn't cardiac caused, via a rhythm disorder, and would likely not have another stroke so long as she kept the BP down.
Still -- those nights were scary. I was also convinced she WOULD get Covid, which we had both successfully avoided -- vaccines were about to become available -- in fact, she had an appointment for one the week she was at Baptist.
Anyway, after 4 days, she was to be discharged to Rehab. We decided on the sparkling new facility at Jackson -- the Lynn Center -- just opened within the year. I drove her there, she was admitted, and spent 3 weeks -- visited daily by the Ds and me - per Covid protocol.
In the meantime, I had assembled Team Wifey -- my dear friends Barry, Eric, and Kenny -- who were my amazing advisors. Our neighbor Jose, conveniently, is Chief of Stroke Treatment at UM, and he was her doc, along with the Rehab guys. He was amazing as well, patiently explaining everything, and assuring us Wifey would recover well. Plus, as a fellow Sephardic Jew to our son in law Joey, I chuckled each time we met -- he clearly shares ancestors with our beloved son in law -- they even speak similarly -- though Jose in a Mexican born Jew and Joey hails from Colombia.
Anyway -- the time went by. Joelle, Kenny's wife, went next level on with me -- not just saying "If you need anything" but ordering me, military like, to have dinner with her and Kenny and their sons. I tend to be fine alone, but Joelle wouldn't allow it -- and for that I will always remember her kindness and mentschiness -- I tearfully thanked her over cocktails on NYE at their apartment.
Tonight, coincidentally, we're going to dinner at Salvatore D's with them, and I will toast that again.
So after Wifey was discharged, it remained a long slog, complicated by the Plague. A PT came to the house several times per week, and then she started outpatient at Baptist. Our routine became a familiar one, as Wifey couldn't drive. I would drop her at PT, walk around the Baptist lake or sometimes see Kenny for coffee, and then fetch her -- whereupon we would visit my Suegra at The Palace. She never knew about the stroke -- she was by then pretty far gone -- couldn't have processed the news about her beloved only child.
One day, as we drove to The Palace, Wifey got a call that changed our lives -- it was Ruby, our dear friend Elizabeth's sister, telling us that our beautiful friend had died on a hiking trip in Utah. I had to pull the car over in a lot next to Kendall Drive. We were shocked and still don't have our heads wrapped around that awful loss. We put a placque outside in an area Elizabeth used to plant shrubs during her visit -- "Elizabeth's Garden." We pass it and think of her multiple times each day.
But time flowed on, and Wifey recovered -- she probably reached maximum improvement by the Fall of 2021. She can do better -- more exercise and better eating -- but our recent trip to France saw her walking several miles --so she has reached a decent plateau.
So now 2 years have passed. The sage words of the Grateful Dead are so apt: "When life looks like Easy Street, there is danger at your door." And so there was -- but with the Big Man's help, through our amazing friends and Ds -- Wifey is back from a scary precipice.
And we shall be thankful and celebrate that daily.
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