I Have Covid!
Estimated reading time: 7 minutes, 49 seconds
Home
“I am outside of the building waiting for you, my love,” I said into the Bluetooth speaker. In the low-key voice I had ever heard from Jan, she responded, “They are bringing me down in a wheelchair.”
I finished the call, got out of the car, and waited for her in the brisk winter air.
Watching her be brought down the ramp in a wheelchair was unsettling, but I presumed it was necessary after the transfusions. The last time I had seen her like this had been when Mike was born. We had arrived so close to delivery that they placed her in a chair to get her upstairs.
“She will be fine,” said the nurse, who must have read the question on my face. “We did this to help her after a long day.”
I thanked her and helped move Jan from the chair to the car. Before closing the door, I kissed Jan and whispered the three most reassuring words that I knew – I love you!
“I’m tired,” Jan declared.
“We will be home soon.”
“Dinner is easy.”
We stopped at the Stop and Shop so I could get her some fruit to hold her until we got home.
Looking at her as we started to drive again, I was more in love with her than ever. It has been a long day, but Jan was going to be OK.
Low Blood Counts
“This was my third visit in eleven days,” Jan reminded me as we had dinner. “Why aren’t the numbers getting any better?” I shook my head as I placed a plate in front of her. I stood next to her and kissed her head, just as I had done on the day we met. “I will call Dr. Strair in the morning.”
The love of my life was exhausted and worried. All I could offer her to console her was my everlasting love.
After dinner, I helped her to the love seat.
“Rest, my dear, while I clean up from dinner.”
While I washed the dishes, Jan’s phone rang.
“It was a long day, and I’m exhausted.”
The person she was talking to did not get the hint.
“More blood bags; I have to go back on Saturday.”
I loaded the dishwasher and dried my hands.
“Richard’s been a saint; he does everything for me.”
I scanned the discharge papers, and the red blood and Hemoglobin had fallen. They were no longer listed as usual.
“I couldn’t do this without his love and support.”
Jan ended the call and looked at me.
“I am exhausted. Can you help me get upstairs so I can sleep?”
I nodded yes.
Helping her upstairs, I reminded her, “Our religion does not have saints.”
“I know, but you have been so helpful to me.”
“I love you. I am only doing what love requires me to do.”
She started to weep. I handed her my handkerchief.
“I have been difficult, demanding, and mean to you, and you keep loving me.”
I held her in my arms at the top of the stairs.
Jan smiled and lifted her head to kiss me.
“I will always love you. Our love will never die.”
After getting her into bed, I paced our living room.
God, please don’t let her die!
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
I love these stories, Richard❤
Penny, thank you so very much. My writings are from my heart and, in many ways, are an extended love letter to Jan. As I have described in other posts and comments, the words flow from me like an incoming tide at the Jersey shore.
This quote by Helen Keller has always resonated with me.
“What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.”
I hope to see you on April 24th to Celebrate Jan Day.
Thanks so very much for reading this post. Please feel free to share this post and others with anyone interested.