The Will to Live

January 13, 2019

There are some things that are just basic instinct. For instance, a baby will latch onto anything near his or her mouth and start sucking with all the power of a shop vac. Just ask any new mom whose little one has latched onto the wrong spot! Opening your mouth when being fed, taking a bite, chewing, swallowing. Basic things that will eventually be forgotten should the disease follow its natural progression. But let's not go there right now. Here's what happened:

A couple of days ago, my husband came down with a high fever. Since he's basically non-verbal at this point, trying to determine the cause was an exercise in futility. At this stage, what you go for is comfort. Is the person eating, drinking, resting? Displaying any signs of pain such as facial grimacing, grunting, groaning, or perhaps placing his or her hand on a body part while displaying non-verbal signs of pain?

A nurse was dispatched from hospice to sit with my husband for an 8-hour shift. She (in this case) was charged with encouraging me and ensuring his comfort, monitoring his temperature and blood pressure, communicating with the hospice doctor regarding any needed medications, and taking care of any personal needs that might arise, such as changing his incontinence briefs. Since, on this particular day, he was bedridden due to illness, this involved encouraging him to turn onto his side so the briefs and bed pad could be removed and replaced, then his other side so the pad could be smoothed and the briefs secured. One of the facility's caregivers was called in to help.

Though the bed has railings, my husband was having none of this being rolled onto his side, close to the edge stuff. It was a battle royal as his fear-of-falling instinct took over. The nurse's calming words of reassurance had no effect. He flailed, pushed, and resisted rigidly for all he was worth, and his fear manifested in a remarkable spoken phrase. It surprised all of us: "I'm going to die!" There you have it. Perfect, momentary clarity. Even at this late stage of the disease, it wasn't just the possibility of falling that was giving him the strength to fight. It was the probability of being seriously injured in that fall. It was basic self-preservation. It was the amazing, instinctive, God-given will to live.

The fever has gone, and all is well. This time. I know the day is coming, months or years from now,  when the outcome will be different. In the meantime, though, allow me to marvel once again at his strength and resilience and ability to make a come-back. My man is such a warrior!