We had just finish celebrating my husband’s birthday, surrounded
by family and friends, during one of the warmest Columbus Day weekends
in the Northeast. After 3 full days of entertaining, we escorted the last
of our visitors to the airport and vowed that this was it! 2012 would be
a sabbatical year for us (as far as entertaining). We then sent the
kids to bed. It was back to reality for them, with the school year starting
again after the long weekend. I joined my husband on the sofa as he watched
over and over again in awe, the slideshow I made of his life on our flat screen
TV. Exhaustion took over, so I went to lie down in bed and eventually
dozed off.
At about 2:10am ,
I woke up to my chest hurting. I tossed a little and tried to go back to sleep
when I heard coughing from the bathroom. Only then did I realize I was alone in
bed. I start thinking, while I heard more coughing and the shower running, that
my husband was probably having a small bout with asthma but trusted he had it
under control. In the 20 years we've been together, I’ve never seen him in
distress.
I heard things falling... the water stop... and the coughing was
faint but still there. Then I heard him call my name; not loud enough that it
would have woken me up, but like a whisper filled with angst, in a tone which
made it ear-piercing. What was happening? Was I still dreaming? If this was a
nightmare, I needed to be woken up right away. Unfortunately, I wasn’t that
lucky…
I immediately jumped out of the bed, ran to the bathroom and pushed
the door open. In the next five seconds, I saw one of the most alarming things
I had ever seen. My husband was sitting on the toilet, undressed, with both
hands clinched; one on the window seal one on the sink. His eyes were
blood-shot red and he was fighting... fighting to take a breath. I wasn’t even
sure what I was seeing, but I knew I had to respond quickly. Frantically, I ran
back to the bedroom. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I was trying to
think clearly. I grabbed the house phone and dialed 911. I then grabbed my cell
phone and dialed my brother, who is my first emergency contact. Five seconds
had passed...
His breathing was shallow, foam was coming off his mouth, his
skin color had faded from brown to ashy to blue, and his eyes had an
expression that I still can’t describe. The 911 operator (over the speakerphone)
was telling me that I had to do CPR, and that I had to lay him on the floor but
I couldn't move him. He was clinching so hard and his body was so stiff. I was
pulling with all my might, but couldn't move him. I began to feel useless; like
I couldn’t do anything to help the one I love the most. All I could do was tell
him to “hang in there” and tell him that I loved him, and beg the operator to
hurry. A lifetime passed and he stopped breathing. His body let go, and his
head and shoulders dropped. I pulled him, laid him on the tiled floor
of the bathroom and with the help of the operator, started giving him CPR. They
told me not to stop so I wasn’t going to stop, no matter what. Not even if the
Earth stopped rotating. Not even if the sky began
to fall. In my mind, I was praying that my babies didn't wake up and see us
like this, see their father like this... The paramedics finally arrived, after
what seemed like a million hours. It took about 25 minutes for all 8 of them to
finally get a steady pulse, and partially stabalize him, before rushing him to
the hospital.
My sister said "Calm down, all you can do his pray now".
The medics said, "Ma’am, you did a great job... probably saved his life.
He is in good hands now". All I could think about was how very true it is,
that when you’re in need, that’s usually when you remember God. When trouble begins
to rise, that's when you remember that you know someone who performs
miracles, and you begin to call on to him...
Well, that day was my day. I was sitting in the emergency room
with my brother and all I could do was remind God how good of a man my husband
was; how he had never done anything wrong, how young he was, how he had 2
beautiful kids who adore him, and what would the kids or I do without him... I
wanted to turn back the hands of time. This weekend wasn't supposed to be our
goodbye to him; rather, it was a toast to the first 40 years and a send off to
the next 40...
That night they put him in a coma induced sleep to help his lungs,
and to help his body recoup from the trauma. I sat on the hospital chair next
to his bed and stared. I needed to go home and take my babygirl to school, so
told the nurse that I'd be right back. I walked in a daze through the parking
lot, still not understanding what just happened. I sat in my car and I cried,
cried hysterically...
That was my “wake up call”. That was the day I knew it was okay to
let go. I realized that I'd always have someone who has my back. I still have
fears, because what is granted to me can so easily be taken, but now more than
ever, I understand that "when I'm lead to the edge of a cliff, I need
to trust God fully and let go. He will either catch me when I fall or he will
teach me how to fly".
That day he taught me how to fly...
Our destiny has been set
for us. While in your hands you have the ability to make it the best it can be,
don't waste any time. Love, celebrate, appreciate and let love.RosieSandz
