Friday, July 27, 2012

Breathless...


Breathless.  For me, it’s that moment when the world I thought I knew turns on its axis and I feel unable to anchor myself to reality.  Not a word I take lightly or use very often.  Few are the times I can recall in my life the time I actually felt that way.
  • Thrice with my husband.  The first, the day following our wedding as we drove to Toronto for our weekend honeymoon.  I looked at him, he smiled and I was breathless.  Second, the breathless moment I realized years later, that no matter how self-destructive I was, he loved me, for myself, without question or reservation.  The third, a fourth of July, many years following that, the darkest moment in our marriage. That breathless moment seemed to last a lifetime.  As we approach our thirtieth anniversary, I am eternally grateful for the significance of all three in our lives.   
  • Our son was a high risk pregnancy after three miscarriages and born ten days premature by C-Section.  For a variety of reasons I didn’t get a chance to hold him in the delivery room.  Four hours after delivering him and numerous updates from the ICU neo-natal nurse, I was informed his condition warranted a transfer to the Children’s Hospital ICU neo-natal unit.  They wheeled him into the room in his isolette for me to look at him.  I wasn’t breathless until I realized they’d left with him and I’d never touched him.  With great joy I got the opportunity four days later after I was discharged and went to him.  At 23 today, he’s a blessing I never take for granted.
  • The moment before I introduced myself to a group of women in a sexual abuse survivors group.  Breathless and filled with shame. In the 12 weeks that followed, the amazing women in the group, Steve and my writing helped ground me and shed the shame I felt.
  •  Shortly after midnight, January 20, 2006, when I walked into the ICU after being separated from my mother for 45 minutes while she was transferred from the ER to the ICU.  The traumatic brain injury she’d suffered earlier the previous evening had done its damage and I feared in that breathless moment that the woman before me, a mere shadow of the woman I’d left 45 minutes earlier, was irrevocably changed.  My heart still aches for what she endured the next three years. 
  • December 26, 2009, ten short months after my mother passed, sitting at my father’s hospital bedside, as he took his last breath.  A sudden passing, just 8 short days after finding a giant aneurysm with resulting surgery and complications. Breathless in the relief that he didn’t have to struggle anymore in living each day without his soul mate of sixty years.  His five children at his side as he passed…I know a great solace to him.
  •  June 7, 2012 - 7:00 pm as I watched my oldest brother die in the ICU hours after triple bypass. As I stood and watched the activity of the resuscitation team: the CPR, the medications, the communication and the successful result as they miraculously brought him back to us…breathless.  
Eight ground shaking and life altering moments for me.  I’m known to be very pragmatic as well as very emotional.  Hence a lot may touch me, but it takes a lot to shake my core.  And for that I’m grateful.

14 comments:

  1. You have seen a lot of breathless moments. I'm glad for the happy ones but sorry about the others. When my dad went into cardiac arrest in a hospital, the staff seemed to show up from nowhere with full equipment. They quickly pushed me out of the hospital room, so I couldn't see anything. I'm surprised they let you watch your oldest brother. It's a scary event, I know.

    http://joycelansky.blogspot.com

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    1. There have been a few but I am grateful for each one in a strange way. My brother's code was remarkable. They cleared all the visitors in the ICU, but let me stay. I was surprised as well and stayed still as a statue but they told me afterwards that their policy is to allow family to stay as long as they aren't "counter productive". There were easily 12 people there in a matter of seconds and it was the one of the most difficult yet strangely fascinating things I've ever watched in my life. They did a remarkable job in bringing him back and he is doing well today.

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  2. breathless moments in a very meaningful life i suspect

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    1. Very much so Lynn - thank you for stopping to read and comment.

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  3. Wow, Amy, the story about your brother gives me goosebumps. What a miracle. I am so glad that he survived and is recovering well. And so sorry for your losses. You are truly blessed to have Steve and Abe, as they are to have you. Lovely post.

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    1. I was hesitant to write about the moments, because so many of them are during painful periods but I wouldn't have missed one of them - each one had its special purpose in my life. I really am blessed in so many ways.

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  4. I was breathless as I read each one! And that last...all I kept thinking was that, no, no, he made it! I remember that he made it! What happened? What did I miss??

    Nothing. I missed nothing. Thank gosh there was nothing like that to miss.

    Exhale.

    Wonderful entry. Each moment had me still in my seat.

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    1. Thank you Amy. I rewrote the one about my brother many times. It took a while to get it right - not for any shock value, but to truly be honest about the moment. And I'm honored that you remembered his positive outcome. He is doing well still, a true miracle.

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  5. That breathless c-section story reminds me of my own, when I was sox wiped out and on Demerol, hat ideally never " met" my first born until the following afternoon, as hecwas in ICU. We do al l have our breathless moments.

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    1. Amazing the parallels we find in each other's lives the more we visit others blogs. Such a comfort in the shared knowledge/experiences!

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  6. This is so beautifully laid out. I love every breathless moment because when felt through your words, I shared the blessing of each. The loss of parents is expected, but still unbearable. Yet, the years of love and memories are so valuable and the lesson of life is fleeting so necessary.
    This is among your very best pieces. Truly.

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  7. Thank you Jo - glad you could see/appreciate the blessings of each. They are certainly mixed blessings.

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  8. Blinking back tears. The power of the heart is breathles and beautiful.

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    1. So glad you stopped by to read. And I agree it is mighty powerful indeed.

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