Defining Moments

What makes a defining moment in relationship with someone else? What is the trigger that makes you know what you truly want (and, sometimes, whether what you have is it)?

This is on my mind because this past week, I experienced one, although it feels less defining the further in time we get from it. But essentially, it goes like this:

On last Tuesday evening at about 10:45 pm, my not-quite-51-year-old husband had a stroke.

It wasn't a "falling down on the floor losing consciousness" kind of event, but it was clear enough to both of us what was happening. We were just sitting in the living room watching TV, when suddenly he turned to me and asked, "Are my eyes crossed?" One eye was looking forward, the other appeared to be trying to escape from his head and was pressed hard to the outside corner of his eye socket. Slowly the errant eye relaxed, but his vision remained jumbled and confused; he would later describe it as like trying to look through the side of a prism. Then the dizziness and headache came.

We called 911. Paramedics were at our home literally within 60 seconds, and given the clear nature of his symptoms, elected to take him to the Stroke Center at Alta Bates Hospital. Another strange synergy of good luck: Alta Bates is literally four blocks from our house.

He stayed in the emergency room until they determined the "acute" phase had concluded; about 5:30 am he was transferred to Kaiser Hayward where he received wonderful care and every 'graph, 'gram, and 'sound known to human kind. Slowly his brain began to recalibrate itself to read the information his eyes were sending it; this process is still continuing almost a week later. He was discharged on Saturday after all testing showed no ongoing threat to his health other than very high blood pressure. He is likely to regain full function within six months.

In those early hours, though, we didn't know the extent of the damage, whether it was reversible, or if he was likely to have a second larger "event" that would take him past some point of no return. And standing in the cold outside the emergency room at Alta Bates, I found myself feeling an enormous range of things: guilt that I had ever been angry with him over anything, anger that this was happening to us, but above all, a determination to work with it. And, strangely, a part of me that had been pushing for more of a "partnership" decided I might as well be prepared to do everything, since I might not have a choice in the matter eventually.

The emotional reaction is fading somewhat, and this is good, really; had I stayed in that state I would not be able to nag my husband now to take his meds and measure his blood pressure and lay off that last cup of coffee. I'm really hoping he himself will see this as a "wake-up call" of sorts, the Big Cosmic Thump in the Head from the Universe, and take the challenge to move beyond his comfort zone into a new and better reality. I'm rooting for this to make us stronger together, somehow, and better. Because I know for sure now, even though I sometimes wonder how it is that I'm with my husband, I really don't want to be without him.

Have you had a defining moment? How has it shaped you and your attitude toward relationship(s)? What delusions did it shatter, or what sexiness did it reinforce?

'Til next time ...

--E. Marie