Althea: A Story of Love Read online

  We didn’t speak but rather drank in this moment with our eyes and held each other’s hands. Time stood still and we heard the faint noise of water splashing on the rocks in the nearby river. This gurgling sound made the perfect background noise to compliment the peaceful chirps of the crickets and grunts of the frogs. The pavement was still warm against the chill of the night air. We finally arose smiling, hugging, and kissing each other still not saying a word but knowing we both experienced exactly the same wonderful thing.

  When we weren’t camping, we’d scoot off with our cycling friends and enjoy the wind in our face while watching the colors of fall swoosh by. Mountain driving with its twists and turns, rises and falls, curbside wildlife, and clear blue skies was enjoyed even more once we got our helmet radios. These radios could send our comments to each other completely hands free. Whenever one of us would speak—and sometimes when a bug would hit our face shields—the other would hear what was said. We always used them if for nothing else just to tell each other that we loved each other.

  In celebration one day of my sixth year of being drug free from marijuana, I told Althea I wanted to celebrate by taking a drive through the back roads in the extreme southern part of Denver. We met our friend Gary, the best man at our wedding, at his house and he joined us on our ride. Althea had reservations about going and had a dream that something terrible would happen. I reassured her I would be extremely careful and despite her moderate objections we went on the ride. I just wanted to celebrate this event and riding was how I chose to do this.

  After getting gas at a nearby station, Althea took a while to get out on the road. Gary sped off and raced through the intersection as he usually did. I checked my mirrors to see where Althea was, and I saw her turn into the same lane I was now in.

  “Are you coming?” I spoke into the radio.

  “Right behind you,” she responded. “It just took me a while to get across the road.”

  “OK, I’ll meet you at the onramp. Gary is already there waiting for us. Just follow me.”

  Our radios were working fine and I was getting excited to enjoy these next few hours with people I loved. I approached the intersection and saw Gary waiting patiently for me across the way. I checked to see where Althea was in my mirrors and she was coming up on my rear about fifty feet behind.

  I presumed that Gary had tripped the left turn light and without a second thought I putted into the intersection. Suddenly, I heard brakes screeching and out of the corner of my eye I saw the headlights of a car, nose down and sliding out of control heading straight for me. Twenty feet from my right leg and closing fast, there wasn’t much time to do anything.

  “Oh shit!” I said while instinctively yanking my right leg up as hard as I could. The bumper of the car smashed against the side of the bike twisting it underneath me. I felt the handle bars pull away from me as the bike instantly changed direction to that of the car’s.

  Contorting in the air, I rolled uncontrollably on the top of the hood like a ragdoll flopping in the wind. My hip slammed into the door jam and my helmet cracked loudly against the windshield. Just before blacking out I thought, This is really going to hurt when I wake up.

  For the next few moments, I floated in the blackness trying to figure out where I was and what just happened. I looked around straining to make out any details or shapes. Holding up my hands in front of me, they disappeared in front of my face. I closed my eyes and concentrated, trying to remember the previous few moments—and then it hit me. I was just hit on my motorcycle. I said to myself, Oh, I’ll be alright.

  As soon as I thought those words, it felt like I was on the fastest express down elevator I had ever been on. Streaks of gray lines and white blurs streamed through the blackness and I felt my spirit crash back into my body literally bouncing it off on the ground.

  Opening my eyes, I saw Althea’s face and heard her screaming into my helmet, “Shut up! Shut up!” I was puzzled as to why she screamed this, so I complied without complaint or question. As I lay there going in and out of consciousness, I could hear the sand sliding on the ground under people’s shoes as they walked by. The sound of the scuffling sand intensified, masking out wind gusts and traffic noises.

  Off in the distance, I heard a siren and muffled voices. An ambulance came and I was taken to a hospital to be checked out. I don’t remember much of the ride other than feeling a little sick to my stomach. I passed out and regained consciousness several times between the site of the accident and the hospital, but all I felt like doing was to take a nap.

  After a thorough checkup, I was released from the hospital after just a few hours without the ER staff ever taking an X-ray. While I was there, I seemed fine—although very shaken from the incident. I soon realized that this was not the case.

  Althea’s premonition was correct and I should not have gone on that ride. Not thinking clearly, I only wanted to go home and go to sleep. I felt incredibly tired and my hip ached from a severe bruise I got when colliding with the door jam.

  Two days later, I struggled with everyday tasks like remembering who I was talking to on the phone. From my perspective, I felt completely normal but I slept an inordinate amount of time and couldn’t remember much of what happened. I didn’t realize this as uncharacteristic behavior, and instead I insisted on just sleeping it off. My reality was subtly closing down and I was completely unaware of it. Althea was at a loss for what to do.

  The next day Althea took me back to the hospital and I was diagnosed with a slow brain bleeder that had since stopped. The swelling was already going down and a severe concussion is all that remained. The doctor believed that surgery was not necessary. I would have to just suck it up and ride it out.

  My mind slowly slipped away as each day passed. It was as if I had blinders on and couldn’t see anything except what was directly in front of me. One afternoon, my left brain completely shut down and my right brain took over running every aspect of my existence. I remember sitting on the couch with my head in my hands hearing a dialog between my spirit and my left brain.

  “I can’t do this anymore. I have to sleep,” my left brain said to my spirit.

  My spirit, shocked and not knowing what to do, compassionately replied, “OK.”

  Given permission, my left brain—the part of me where I spent my entire life—instantly fell sound asleep. I was wide awake but the familiar chatter that constantly flooded my brain was eerily silent. Instead of being in a restaurant with buzzing voices, I felt like I was in a deep well with no one around.

  I was in shock and I didn’t know how I was going to manage. Who would take care of me? Who would run my body, breathe for me, think for me, decide for me?” my spirit agonized. And then after a few moments of panic, I heard another voice coming from the right side of my brain that said, Oh alright. I’ll do it. For the next six weeks, I lived mostly in my right brain.

  This was probably the best thing that ever happened to me since I had a chance to see how others—those who normally live in their right brains—experience life. What a gift! I was given the opportunity to live two completely different life perspectives in one single lifetime! I was excited but a little scared at the same time. I wasn’t sure how well the part of me I ignored for forty five years was going to do running my body, or my life. I wonder what kinds of decisions I will make feeling like this? Much to my bewilderment, there was nothing to worry about. In fact, it was amazing.

  I didn’t have to analyze or justify anything. I just did something and if it worked out, then I was happy. If it didn’t work out, I just tried something else without beating myself up. No matter what I decided, things turned out fine. My life didn’t really need all of the control I devoted to it.

  Although this was a wondrous and revealing experience, I still felt like I was living life through a veil. “It’s just going to take a while to get better,” one doctor predicted. There was no known remedy in western medicine for relief from such symptoms.

  With six weeks off
from work, I had time to allow my body’s recovery to take its natural course. This mental haze that clouded my perception did not appreciably improve, and I did not like feeling that way. Understanding my recovery would be a long and challenging process, I surrendered to time and patiently waited for my healing to occur.

  But after two weeks of leaving my curing up to my body alone, things just weren’t getting much better. Althea suggested I see a chiropractor and I half-heartedly agreed. The next afternoon, she drove me to an appointment.

  The chiropractor was also at a loss as to what he could do. But he called his wife, a licensed homeopathic therapist, asking her opinion. She recommended a homeopathic remedy widely used to help reduce swelling and bruising, symptoms my brain possessed. He gave me one tablet and I slowly dissolved it under my tongue.

  Within fifteen minutes, the veil thinned. I was flabbergasted. I started to feel better, much better, and this was the first time I felt any relief from these depressing symptoms. Now I had hope—hope for a complete recovery.

  It took eight years for me to get back to normal. Throughout my recovery, I used various homeopathic remedies under the guidance of this homeopathic therapist, each proving highly beneficial at their appropriate time. He was able to help me where western wisdom could not.

  Three weeks after the accident, Althea drove me to Gary’s house to look at the mangled remains of my motorcycle. When the garage door opened revealing the twisted wreckage, I wondered how I managed to survive at all. The left handle bar was bent almost vertical and there was a large dent in the gas tank into which my left thigh fit perfectly. The right foot peg was driven into the side of the transmission and the front forks were twisted around like a pretzel. There was no hope for restoring my prized ride. My bike literally died for me.

  All through my recovery, Althea urged me to get better, encouraged me when I forgot how to do something, and gave me tough love when I needed that too. The whole time she was right there for me and encouraged me to try to do more. Without her support and constant encouragement, this eight year recovery process would have taken much, much longer. She was my cheerleader.

  This morning, I wrote another letter to the growing list of Althea’s online supporters. With a large cup of coffee in hand, I quickly summarized what had happened and assured everyone her recovery was progressing well. The letter went something like this.

  It seems like a long time since last Wednesday, with each day Althea's healing progressing a little more than the previous. But yesterday was an incredible emotional ride filled with extreme highs and lows. Most of the day she appeared to slide back on her progress from all other days so far. The doctors were concerned about additional bleeding inside her head since she was more lethargic and her oxygen level was dropping. They did another CT scan that proved to be fine.

  Fortunately her breathing tube was accidentally ripped out of her mouth as they moved her from her bed to the CT table. This revealed an almost completely obstructed breathing tube. Phlegm had lodged inside the tube and almost totally blocked off her breathing passage. They realized this is where her true problem was. They cleaned up the tube and put it back down her throat, taping it against the side of her face. If this tube had not ripped out, they would not have known what was wrong. Phlegm was inside her lungs and in her weakened state she could not cough it up. They needed to keep her lightly sedated so she would not damage her head when coughing. Althea’s allergies caused her lungs to fill faster than they had anticipated. There is no such thing as an accident as this proves without a doubt!

  She has developed a small fever but is sleeping a lot, and this is probably a good thing. She is quite weak, but when awake she is completely conscious and fully aware. Her body just does not respond as it once did. Her brain is still swollen and until that goes down there will not be much progress. I gave her some of the homeopathic remedy at about five o’clock today. This helped me during my recovery from my severe concussion in 1993.

  At about six o’clock, she suddenly woke up. Her right hand started moving freely and she grabbed my right thumb tightly with her right hand, much tighter than she ever had previously.

  She was very much awake and yawning, something brand new. Although it was mostly a one-way conversation, she responded "yes" by squeezing my thumb and pointing to things. It took about twenty minutes for me to figure out that she needed her Nexium and that her acid reflux was making her throat very sore. Next, she directed me to a spasm in her neck. A muscle in front of her right ear running down to her shoulders had seized up tight. I massaged it and it relaxed. She was calm for the rest of the time. I tried to go to the restroom but she would not let go of my thumb. This is a game she plays with me regularly when I want to mow the lawn, or work outside, or work on the computer. Doing this I knew she is now her same old playful self she always was.

  It's about eight A.M. now and I am sipping on a cup of coffee (Starbucks to boot) waiting for the morning nursing report to finish and for my visit with Althea to begin. I am extremely hopeful and ready for a more healing day rather than the roller coaster ride of yesterday. I was an emotional basket case for a while feeling her progress slipping slowly away and concerned about another hemorrhage. When the doctors, nurses, and staff flew into action, it raised my attention and made me believe something was really wrong they were not telling me about. But this proved to be unfounded and she is fine. Althea is an incredible woman, one of strength and determination I so deeply admire. Despite her earth-bound afflictions—sinus drainage, allergies, acid reflux, and the like—she still manages to fill my heart with more love that it can hold. She paints astounding things (see www.divinegiggle.com) and has an exemplary attitude towards life. I have learned so much about who I am from her I do not believe anyone else could have showed me as clearly or as quickly as she did. I am glad that she is my wife.

  Well, I'm going to send this to others so bye for now. Please forward this to everyone who is interested in her recovery for me. Thanks for all of the prayers and healing energies (and keep them comin!),

  Phil

  PS - I ask that you hold the following image firmly in your minds while in your prayers for Althea:

  Althea is sitting with me on her favorite bench next to our house under the cedar trees. She looks up and sees two hawks circling overhead squawking at each other. She raises her coffee cup, our eyes meet, and she says, "Philip, I love you!" I raise mine in return and say, "Althea, I love you too."

  When this happens, I know that her healing and curing is complete.

  Arriving in her room shortly after eight o’clock, I reached into my pocket, pulled out a pill bottle, said to Althea, “This is a homeopathic remedy. Remember when I had my motorcycle accident?”

  A gentle squeeze of my thumb confirmed what I had already anticipated.

  “Do you want me to give you some now?”

  Another quick squeeze of my thumb gave me the permission I had hoped for.

  Within twenty minutes, her response to this single dosage was unbelievable. Her color started to return, the stress in her eyes and face faded, and she started asking for more by touching her tongue to the top of her teeth.

  “When you want some, touch your tongue as you just did and I will know.”

  She gently squeezed my thumb in acknowledgement. She is coming back to me.

  Somewhat fearful of her suffocating from a clogged breathing tube, I spent the whole day attentively by her bedside. I did not want to lose her to asthma or phlegm now that she had survived her stroke. Although the staff was prepared, I felt responsible to assure her safety.

  Staying long after the end of normal visiting hours, I dozed off at nine o’clock in the stiff vinyl-clad pink chair next to her bed, still aware of every wheeze and whimper. It was quite cold in her room at night and I just could not get comfortable. Exhausted, I ventured out to my Mini Cooper at two A.M., put the seat all the way back, and tried to get some much needed sleep. I cuddled up as best I could. Finding it far more
comfortable than the chair in Althea’s room, I now know why they call this car a Mini. With the seat back all the way and my feet tucked under the pedals, this car was still about two inches shy of letting me stretch out completely. I didn’t want to drive home this late so I struggled through the night dozing on and off. At least I will have a good parking place tomorrow. I said to myself. I felt my eyes close heavily and with my last yawn I fell into a broken but still restful slumber.

  Chapter 8 — February 26, 2008 — Day 6

  * * *

  We had two delightful cats, both with those glorious green eyes. The older, smaller female was all black named “Tar Balls,” and a larger golden tabby was named “Bengals.” When we went hiking, our cats proved to be a source of nonstop entertainment. They scampered about venturing into the rocks seeking out anything that wriggled, slithered, or skulked about. When going on long or overnight hikes, we usually left Tar Balls home since she didn’t like to walk far. But Bengals, being all male, was an explorer who enjoyed being with us despite his recurring reluctance to climb uphill.