Had everything gone according to our plans, we would have been strolling the white sugar sand beaches of the Florida Gulf Coast now. Instead, we’re buried in almost a foot of snow with temperatures in the teens, a rare occurrence in our hometown in southern Oregon.
But here we are. At just one month after Eric’s unexpected surgery, we’re emerging, somewhat battered and fragile, into the light. Neither of us is sleeping through the night. He awakens often, his entire being thrown off by the invasive and life saving surgery he endured. I awaken often, a habit of hypervigilance instilled during the nine days of his hospital stay when I checked on him every hour or two, making sure that he was still present and accounted for. It was an otherworldly experience for both of us, a journey to a foreign land that we never expected to visit.
We’re relieved for our return to a somewhat normal life. And yet, we’re still far from normal. We go for our daily walks, slower than our usual pace, and only on level ground. Three weeks ago, when I accompanied Eric on his first halting walk through the hospital corridor, I could barely reconcile the man hunched over a walker; shuffling along at a snail’s pace, with the man I know who hikes 10 miles or bikes 30 miles with no discernible effort.
But today, I recognize him. We walk at a reasonably brisk pace around the lake, through the snow, for 40 minutes. It is nothing short of a miracle what the body can endure and recover from.
As much as we love our hometown, we would never have planned to spend the winter in our trailer here. There are many things that are challenging about wintering in an RV. It’s a total pain in the butt to be filling the propane tanks every week—they’re heavy and awkward. And we can’t hook up to water because the hoses will freeze, so we have to keep filling the fresh water tank and using the water pump. Most of the tasks of daily living are falling to me right now.
In our normal life, pre-apocalypse, Eric did the outside stuff on the trailer, and I took care of the inside stuff. In our usual sharing of duties, I plan the meals and shopping lists, he does most of the errands, and we share cooking and clean up. I plan our travels; he drives. But right now, while he’s healing, I’ve been doing most everything.
I want to do this; I want to care for him. And there are times that it feels hard. It’s hard for him, too. I know that it won’t be forever, that he will get better, and that we’ll return to our normal active lives. But I’ve arrived at one of those life-changing moments, the realization that there will come a time—hopefully many years down the road—when something will happen and it won’t get better. Maybe it will be him; maybe it will be me. It’s sobering to think about, either way.
It’s like that for my mom and dad now. My mom is suffering from Alzheimer’s, and where they once shared equally and happily in the tasks of life, my dad, at age 88, has taken over responsibility for every aspect of their lives. He does it with remarkable grace and acceptance. I’m watching him and learning. It’s not a bad thing, this awareness. It brings life even more sharply into focus, and helps me keep my priorities straight.
There are many gifts now, even in the challenging moments. Last night after a marathon grocery shopping expedition, followed by hauling in the groceries and five gallons of water (through the deep snow, mind you), reorganizing the refrigerator, and putting away the groceries, I took out the compost. As I slogged through the snow in the dark to the compost bin, the sparkling diamonds in the pure white snow illuminated by my headlamp mesmerized me. That made me happy. When I can see and appreciate the diamonds in the snow on the way to the compost bin, I don’t miss the white sugar sand beaches of the Gulf Coast at all.
Hugs and Blessings to you good people. Thank you for the perspective.
Thank you for your kind wishes, Tom. :-)
I am so glad that Eric is doing well. My brother had emergency open heart surgery years ago and it was super scary. They didn’t offer counseling with that one, but with his second one they did. If it is offered, I recommend going. It made a world of difference with him and his wife. There are so many life changes that happen. Prayers and positive thoughts to the both of you.
Pam, Eric just started a three-month program of cardiac rehab last week that will include counseling. The classes are offered to both of us, and we’re looking forward to them. Glad to know your brother is doing well. Thanks for your good thoughts!
Laurel –
Sounds like you guys are getting along nicely given the challenges, and are improving every day. Won’t be long now. Many years ago (about a half/century) when Penny and I traveled around in a trailer, we had a “Heat Tape” to wrap the water line hose to prevent freezing. It worked great. I got it at a hardware place in Tonopah, NV. An RV supply place should have one. It was about 30 feet long and worked great! Highly recommended!
Thanks for the ideas, Tom. We’ve considered a heated hose (as you suggested in your email), but didn’t really want to invest in one—if this freezing weather continues much longer, I think we’ll have to! I’ll check into the heat tape as an alternative.
So glad Eric is recovering! We bought a heat tape for our RV water hose when temps dipped lower than we expected in NV also. Found ours at a Home Depot, so you might check there. I admire you both so much for the grace with which you’re enduring all of this — and the honesty with which you write about it. Sending good energy your way!
Thank you so much for your good wishes, Ellen. As the temps continue to be below freezing here, we’re seriously considering the heat tape/heated hose idea. Never thought we would be wintering in the snow in our RV for an extended time!
Life is not always easy or beautiful. I really appreciate you sharing all that you’re going through right now despite the lack of rosiness about it. But I do truly marvel at the image of an unrecognizable Eric a mere three weeks ago behind a walker to an Eric that walks upright outside on frozen ground and is moving toward health. Whew….
Janet, I marvel at Eric’s progress, too! Life is such a big mix of everything, both easy and fun and challenging and painful. I feel like we’ve been remarkably fortunate in this life, even in this experience, and for that I’m deeply grateful.
I wish we lived closer and could help you with some of those chores. You are both such “troopers” and so very dear to Lu & I. Give Eric my best. I think about him every day. Glad he is doing so well.
That’s such a wonderful thought, Terry! Fortunately we have friends here helping with the things I can’t do—were it not for Ted hoisting the 60-pound propane bottles up onto the front of the trailer, I don’t know what we would do. I can lift them down from the truck and carry them to the trailer, but then I’m stuck. We miss you guys and hope to see you this year.
Thank you for sharing all these facets of this challenging time. It is sobering to realize most everyone will have to deal with some variation of your situation in their lifetime. Wishing you both continued strength. The snowy photos Eric posted on FB are gorgeous!
Thank you, Lisa. I think it’s beneficial to recognize that there aren’t any of us getting out of this life without some measure of painful challenges. I believe the recognition that we’re all in the same leaky boat can make us more humble, grateful, and compassionate.
Forty minutes around the pond. Noticing the beauty in the sparkling crystal snow, despite exhaustion. You two are amazing!
Might as well focus on the positive! You are a great observer of beauty and good as well, my friend.
Boy do I enjoy reading your writings.
Thanks so much, JC. I appreciate that you took the time to comment. :-)
We are so happy to hear that Eric is on the mend. It became a little more obvious when he posted some pix on FB.
We’ve done a lot of cold weather camping and have built an insulated/heat-taped hose for that purpose. It will be deployed next week in Page, AZ. A temporary one is easy to set up. Purchase a heat tape that is long enough for the hose, the spigot, and its riser. It doesn’t have to wrap around the hose, instead, simply attach it to the hose with a wrap of electrical tape every 4 inches or so. If some of the hose is in a coil, put the coil in a garbage bag. Just make sure that the heat tape is in contact with the hose.
We’re thrilled that Eric is doing so well! Long way to go, but still good. We certainly didn’t intend to do long term winter camping, but that seems to be our destiny this year. Thanks so much for the suggestion about making an insulated hose. Sure wish we were seeing you in Page this winter!
I highly recommend Dr. Michael Greger’s book “How Not To Die.” https://www.amazon.com/How-Not-Die-Discover-Scientifically/dp/1250066115/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1483654145&sr=1-1&keywords=michael+greger. Chapter 1 of the book is “How Not to Die From Heart Disease.”
Thank you, Paul. Looking at the book, I see that he has a lot of good suggestions, many of which we follow. I appreciate your comment.
What a fine example you set of keeping awareness, perspective, and a sense of awe at the smallest aspects of nature. We think of you often.
Thank you, Sheila. The magnificence of nature always brings me to a peaceful place and makes my heart happy. We miss you guys and are looking forward to another summer together.
So wonderful to be hearing from you again. I am glad you feel you can write about the challenges facing you. I thought it really helped me just to say it “out loud”. I am thrilled to hear that Eric walked for 40 minutes in the snow. WOW!! I am so happy you will, with time, regain your normal life. You are right though that at some point things change permanently as they have for us. What else can you do but admire the diamonds? As David rather morbidly says – we were shocked from perfect health with absolutely no symptoms into incurable illness over night but I ain’t dead yet.
Well said, Sherry! It’s not over till it’s over. You and David have figured out how to live well and fully, even with the specter of an incurable illness hanging over your heads. You both “admire the diamonds” in everything you do. Missing seeing you in Florida this year!
We love reading your blog. Thanks for the update. It was great to see some of Eric’s pics posted once again on fb. So glad to hear of the progress being made. We had a situation recently where I had to do all the inside and outside tasks (along with the driving) for only 10 days and it is challenging for sure and confidence building as well. We are sorry you both are having to go through this and so glad you seem to be on the other side. (Still a lot of rehab work to come it sounds like). We really hope to see both of your smiles sometime this year somewhere!
So happy to hear from you, Beth. It sounds like you know exactly the challenge of having to do it all yourself. It was a big shock to have to suddenly put on my “big girl panties!” It’s been good for me—I’ve certainly learned a lot in the past month. Not that I want to keep doing it all. :-) We definitely want to reconnect with you guys this year.
When I went through some medical stuff and would awaken to see Mike sitting and watching out for me, it was the best to know he had my back. I could close my eyes and relax. Can’t think of a better gift.
Debbie, this is such a beautiful comment. I was at Eric’s side for 12 to 17 hours a day while he was in the hospital. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. He told me the first thing he remembered when he awoke from the surgery was me and our daughter Amanda standing by him, holding his hand. I don’t know how people could go through this alone.
They don’t do well from what I have experienced. We are so fortunate to have someone that’s there for us.
We are, indeed. I never want to go through something like Eric has just experienced, but he had better be there holding my hand if I’m ever in the hospital. :-))
So glad Eric is on the mend ~ and may you also be tending yourself well, dear Laurel! It’s pretty dang slippery out there so be careful. Loving you with all my heart xox
Thank you, dear Dia. It’s a fine balancing act to be figuring out how to care for myself in the midst of this life adventure, but it’s getting easier with each passing day. Slipping and sliding on the ice adds to the challenge—hence I stocked up big time on groceries before the temperatures dropped below 20 degrees! Much love to you.
Your post brought tears to my eyes, Laurel. I am grateful that you are OK to talk about all of it, that you share it with us. Your words in a comment, “We are all in the same leaky boat”…was perfect. I think that awareness of mortality gets a lot closer as the decades pass. You remind us to remember, to see the diamonds, to appreciate every moment, to be sure each of us can dump the tanks (we do), drive the rig (we do) and to somehow be prepared for but not expectant of the loss of one or the other of us. A fine balance. Hopefully this storm (all of them, the physical and the emotional and the weather) will pass soon and you will be somewhere that isn’t slippery.
Oh Sue, this is a wonderful comment. I like your vision for us of all of the storms passing. They will, in time. Meanwhile, I’m doing my best to find the beauty in each moment. And I’m also trying my best to embrace all of the challenges as “learning opportunities.” I know it’s good for me to learn how to do all of those things that I’ve procrastinated learning (emptying the black tank, filling the propane, etc. etc.). I’m feeling rather proud of myself. (But I still don’t want to do it all.)
What a poignant and moving sharing. That introduction to mortality is a rough one, forever changing us. Snow will likely never look or feel the same – but the diamonds will always find you. I smiled at your carrying compost through the snow as I pictured you in purple with a lovely hat :-)
Thank you, Jodee. I do feel like this experience has shifted my awareness on the deepest level of my being. Life is so incredibly precious. I’ve always known that, but it’s different now. (Haha, you know me and my color choices too well!)
Thank you, Laurel, for opening your heart to all of us. What you had to say is something I have been thinking about lately as we continue to age. But I certainly hope we have many, many healthy years together. But it is a reality we all need to come to terms with. So glad Eric is doing well and up to 40 mins a day of walking:) I can understand how important counseling will be at this stage of the recovery. Wishing you both continued strength as Eric travels this path of recovery:) Sure hope the weather takes a warmer turn real soon:)
Pam, considering our mortality isn’t something that any of us usually want to do (there are always so many more FUN things to think about). But I’d have to say, it’s valuable for putting life in perspective. I hope we all have many more healthy years ahead of us. :-) We’re thrilled that Eric is already up to 40 minutes of walking a day. We definitely need the counseling to help us both regain our confidence, though.
Thanks for being so present and honest with the experience of aging. Love to you both.
As my dad says, “Growing older beats the alternative.” Seriously, though, we’re all going to get older (if we’re lucky). This has been a scary experience, but instead of sinking into despair, it seems to be prodding me into going deeper, living more fully, and being more grateful. I feel like we’ve been given a second chance at life. So glad to hear from you, Yahya.
It’s wonderful to see that you both have got over the worst of this ordeal, and you can feel like you are heading towards normality. I just wanted to say how I enjoyed your prose, your writing technique is very professional. I can certainly sympathise with you on living in an RV in winter, it is no fun at all. Just before we came down to Mexico we were in the high desert, CA with no snow but we still had to sleep in our sleeping bags and have our catalytic heater on all night, and I’m sure it’s much colder where you are.
Jane, it is a huge relief to be heading toward normality, step by step (cautiously, in the snow). Wow, having to sleep in your sleeping bags in your RV—that sounds really cold! We’re staying cozy with our propane furnace—can’t use electric heat, because the holding tanks will freeze; that’s why we’re burning through so much propane. Bet you’re happy to be in Mexico!
This was such a beautiful, heartfelt post Laurel. There is nothing like a medical scare to put life in perspective, is there? So glad to hear that Eric is up to 40-minute walks right now. Given his strength before surgery, I feel certain his progress will move along quickly. Counseling to move beyond this experience sounds like a wonderful plan. Sending much lightness and love to you both. I know this experience will not define you going forward, just make you appreciate how fragile life is and not to be taken for granted, which I know neither of you do. We hope 2017 brings excellent health for you both, many wonderful adventures providing a wealth of beautiful memories, and much love and laughter.
Thank you, LuAnn, for your loving wishes. As you said, I don’t feel like this experience will define us moving forward—but we definitely have healing to do, including confidence building, so that we can head into the backcountry for the adventures we love without undue concern. We want to hike with you guys! :-)
So glad that the two of you are doing better. My wife introduced me to your site, and we now religiously follow your amazing adventures while we plan our own. The snow will melt, the sun will shine, and the sound of your laughter will fill the air. Stay strong!
We’re so glad you’re following along with us, Jimbo. I like your affirmations and appreciate your good wishes! All the best to you as you prepare for your adventures.
Sweet sista of my soul….so walking 40 minutes in this cold….hey alleluia!!!! I commend you both …yeah !!! What’s next on the agenda? Call me in two weeks pending neck surgery…hope to be as brave as Eric!
Diana, we will be there for you, just as you and John have been here for us. Sending healing thoughts and love to you, my wild and wonderful friend!
Eric’s a trooper, as are you. It’s hard on both parties when big health changes occur, but you’ve both handled it with grace and love, as you always do. Thank goodness Eric was so fit before the operation. I’m sure that’s helping no end in the rehab.And thank goodness you’re a practical gal that can handle everything else so easily. You’ll get through this, hard as it is, one day at a time. Love and light to you both.
Nina, thank you for your good wishes. Eric is doing remarkably well—as you said, his overall fitness is helping to speed his recovery along. And I’m discovering reserves of strength that I didn’t know that I had. I wouldn’t sign up for this experience, but surprisingly, I’m finding many gifts along with the challenges.
What a poignant, eye opener, a shot in the arm post. You are both tested in all fronts, and despite some tribulations I know you will come out stronger and closer to each other.
Just know that we are thinking of you and we feel what you are going through especially living in your trailer in the snow. No one likes that :(
Keep the hope and strength as both of you recover from this major challenge.
This too shall soon pass!
Thank you, Mona Liza. We appreciate your positive thoughts. Yes, this too shall pass! Even buried in the snow, we’re finding lots of ways to enjoy this quiet, healing time.
Beautiful.
Thank you, Gretchen.
I have read this a few times because it is so poignant, courageous, beautiful and moving. Life certainly throws the unexpected punches, hard obstacles. Somehow we come through these very tough places and plod on, forward. Sometimes it just sucks though!
Your love for Eric is so clear and strong and that will be what gets him and both of you through. This I know. ( Breast cancer surgery in 2005, would never have made it without Ben and his love.)
I send you both love and positive energy and sincere wishes for the speediest recovery for Eric. Sending you some rays of Sri Lankan sunshine to brighten your day and warm your toes!!
Much love
Peta
I appreciate your lovely comment, Peta. You understand firsthand the shock of unexpected significant health challenges. The grace and enthusiasm with which you embrace life is inspiring. :-) Thanks for the love, positive energy, and Sri Lankan sunshine. We’re expecting more snow here!
Oh my goodness! I just caught up on your recent blog posts. I had been thinking of you two and wondering if we would see you in the Keys this year. I can’t even imagine how difficult this unexpected twist must be for both of you. Happy to hear that Eric is on the mend and that you have each other for support. Sending you both positive thoughts and some Florida sunshine :)
Thank you for the good thoughts, Amanda—as you can imagine, we would much rather be kayaking in the Keys with you two! That was our original plan. We’re on the road to recovery, and by late spring, plan to be back on the road to travel!
Just caught up with your blog and recent history. Ed ended up with four stints but no surgery. Sending our love to Eric. So glad you were home, we got off the road two weeks when Ed had his heart attack. We understand the “what ifs.” We are in Coastal Ga and heading home soon to build a new house. These 4 winters spent in The Lark will be memories forever. After all, look at the luck meeting you two😎. See you in Columbus Ohio Spring 2018 ❤️
Diana, we’re so glad to know that all is well with you and Ed. We feel so fortunate that we met up with you, two, too—such fun adventures on Dauphin Island and in New Orleans! We’re looking forward to seeing you in your new home in spring of 2018. Love to you both!