From New Year to New Life

John and I at our grandson, Adam's baptism, January, 2012

Back in January, 2011, I couldn’t possibly foresee the events of the next two and a half years.   I had retired from my job a registered nurse on the mental health unit at Natividad Medical Center, in 2010, due to bad knees and I busied myself making small, throw quilts for women with cancer and other illnesses.  As my husband, John’s health began to deteriorate due to Parkinson’s, and he was forced to retire, we put our lovely home in Salinas, California on the market and made plans to relocate in Utah.  In spite of the talents of a professional house stager and our efforts to keep our house immaculate, our house didn’t sell.

Two weeks before Christmas, John became very ill. We made a trip to the emergency room and even though he was in a great deal of pain, his vital signs were normal. After three hours of not being seen, John felt the pain was due to a kidney stone, and we went home. BIG mistake! We followed up with John's urologist, who took ex rays and yep, sure enough there was a kidney stone. This kidney stone however had been there for ten years. The urologist didn't see a great need for urgency and recommended that we come back in a week, perhaps it would resolve on its own.

Nearly a week later, John woke one morning drenched in sweat. He was shaking, which was not unusual, still the thing that raised my alarm was his breathing. His respirations were somewhere between thirty to forty breaths per minute. I thought perhaps he had low blood sugar and I had him drink a meal replacement drink. He denied any pain. I told him I was taking him to the hospital, and he replied, "No. Let's go to the beach."

Once again at the emergency room, John's vital signs were normal, yet he didn't Look normal. Blood sugars came back within normal limits, white blood cell counts were elevated, but not to a degree that would raise concern. When a CT scan was done of his abdomen, a mass was found. Another CT scan confirmed it was an infection rather than a tumor. He was scheduled for emergency surgery. The surgeon talked to me after the surgery and said John was gravely ill. The infection was the worst she'd seen in twenty years. She said his odds of recovery were a little better than fifty/fifty.

Our children rallied around us for support. Paul, who lived in Fresno, was the first to arrive. Michael, who lived in Utah, said he would leave the next morning. Sherilyn, who lived in Arizona, had some arrangements to make and planned to arrive on the weekend. Together we discussed our options and decided to move to Utah as soon as possible. Miraculously family friends agreed to buy our home for the price we were looking for and John recovered enough for the surgeon to approve a flight to Utah, January 21, 2012.


John had a second surgery to "take down" his illeostomy in April, 2012 and we built a custom home with a handicap accessible suite on the main level, with our son, Michael. While John's health improved, my knees, especially my right knee got worse and I had knee surgery, that October, still I felt well enough to go to Arizona in the winter to spend some time with Sherilyn and her family. With all the hubbub we've been through, I'm not sure where home is. We've been away from family for so long and establishing traditions and routines takes time. Making lifelong friends takes time. There are some days John and I wish we could just go to the beach and watch the waves come in.