Sometimes I can barely breathe when I think back on it. It’s almost worse at times now talking about it then it was when it had just happened.
I get all uncomfortable and fidgety, and teary and nauseous, whenever someone says to Rob, “Wow. You are a very lucky man to still be alive.” Especially when it’s a medical professional who knows how close it really was.
A couple of weeks ago I watched Parenthood with Rob (love that show). It was the scene where Zeke was being taken into heart surgery, and they took him through the big double doors to the surgery, leaving Camille on the other side. Zeke was emotional, nervous and scared. Camille broke down as soon as those doors shut. Rob commented how he couldn’t really relate to Zeke. He said in some ways it was better he (Rob) was just in survival mode and so much pain that there was no time to think; he felt for Zeke having all the emotions and fear. But for Rob, it was all about needing the pain to stop.
I, on the other hand, had to catch my breath watching Camille, and instantaneously felt my own tears come. That moment when those doors closed and they took Rob to the other side, I remember breaking the same way, and having to pull myself together to not hyperventilate. My phone was dead, no one was with me (my bro and sis in law ) were on their way, and all I could go was pray, “Please. Please. Please.”
My prayers were answered. Skeptics say it was a stroke of luck, good timing, skilled medical personnel. I say there was power behind that luck, timing and skills. Until you are in that moment, you don’t really realize how helpless you are with your only option being falling to your knees and pleading for help. Nothing about anything makes sense and so I close my eyes to reason and turn toward the grace and goodness that performed a miracle on that day.
I felt myself get all emotional again yesterday as Rob finished his 6 month program of rehab. In some ways it feels like his heart attack happened years ago. But in other ways, it feels like yesterday. But what a milestone! It has been a long road. He had been the most committed patient ever. I went to his “graduation”. Unlike his rehab in Utah where I attended daily with him, I had never been to this rehab centre. It was so nice to meet the people he has shared this part of the journey with, and to meet his primary therapist. I felt very proud, yet emotional, when she expressed how he had done “phenomenally”, and they had never seen such good results!
Although rehab is over, he’s set on a path for life. He’s been an incredible example to us all, and I feel, despite the crazy things that have happened to us this year, this year will forever be a pivotal changing moment in our lives. A year we were truly blessed to experience.
Congrats Robbie!!! Xo