# Smile, Though your Heart is Breaking (1,000 wds)



## SueC (Jan 23, 2018)

*Smile, Though your *
*Heart is Breaking*

The aneurysm didn’t kill him. A miracle, they said. The road back would be hard, but everyone was amazed that he was even alive.

Rich had suffered from migraines since being hit by a car when he was two years old, the culmination of which began as a trickle of blood from the aneurysm no one knew he had, in his fiftieth year. A leak. Enough of a leak to render him trembling and unable to stand.

I was at work at the time. I met him in the hospital emergency room, and a doctor took me into the hallway and explained the aneurysm and then described the leak. They were going to admit him to ICU and the next day would transfer him to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota.

I had never ridden in an ambulance before; it was like a parting of the Red Sea. Traffic moved to the side as we sped through several intersections and traffic lights on our way to the airport.

We were escorted to a small medical transport plane that would take us one state north. My husband was strapped onto a cot; we used headphones to speak and hear each other. I was terrified and tried to focus on the beauty of the farmland below us. We landed and once again were in an ambulance, heading toward Mayo clinic this time. He was admitted and scheduled for surgery the following day.

I stayed in a small room at a shabby bed and breakfast, and was back at the hospital early the next morning. I sat with Rich until they took him to surgery. All I wanted was my husband back. All I wanted was for them to fix him.

Hours later, a surgeon approached me. I couldn’t read his face; didn’t know if the news was good or bad.

“It was close. We had just gotten to the aneurysm, which was in a very difficult spot.” He pointed a finger at his forehead just above his nose to indicate where. “And it burst. Since blood is toxic to the brain, we had to work fast. His heart stopped for a bit, but we got him back.”

With that he turned and walked away.

Rich was in recovery for a long time, but before the day was out, I was able to see him in intensive care. He looked like Frankenstein. Staples. They had used staples to close the wound on his shaved head. He was sleeping peacefully, so I left to spend the night in my mean little place.

Eventually, I had to go back home. My son and his wife had come for me and I remained in a daze the whole way back. For the next two months, I went to work during the week and then spent the weekends in Rochester. A six hour trip each way. Rich was a complete stranger to me. At times he didn’t know who I was and made no sense at all. He wanted to smoke and kept accusing me of having cigarettes in my pocket. Once he actually attacked me, thinking he could get the smokes out of me. Then he thought the cigarettes were being kept in the Sharps box in his room. Medics had to restrain him.

Nearing discharge, his social worker recommended that Rich be put in a nursing home, because he could not be trusted to stay at home while I was at work. She felt he would not be safe. I went to his room and crawled into bed with him. I told him what the social worker had said. He refused; said he would never, ever go to a nursing home.

Fast forward several months. Rich was home and I had been told that what I saw, was what I had. He would no longer improve. The man who had been a respected hospital administrator was now unable to make change at McDonalds. His attention to detail was gone. If I cried in his presence, he didn’t noticed.

I was working two jobs; my admin job during the day and then retail at night. On one very late night, on my way home, I was listening to Nat King Cole sing “Smile, though your heart is breaking . . . “   and had to pull over, sobbing my heart out for the losses we had both experienced.

I was exhausted. I missed my husband, missed our life together; his kindness, his loving care. He remained a stranger. He said unkind things with no warning. We were losing our friends because being around him made everyone uncomfortable. His therapist said that I had to show him when he made mistakes, so I became the enemy and he became abusive.

If he left the water running in the bathroom, or the stove on in the kitchen, it was my job to show him what he had done. I had to get up with him in the middle of the night, so he didn’t fall down the stairs on his way to the bathroom. Then one day, he told me he didn’t want to be married anymore.

Fast forward several years. Rich and I had divorced as soon as I felt he was able to live alone. He was finally able to drive, so he worked at delivering Meals on Wheels until he retired. He remained as he was mentally.

We both have a new life now. We no longer live in the same state, but we are never out of touch. We send each other Christmas and birthday cards and he calls me when bad weather is headed my way. He calls me on the anniversary of his second life; when our world flipped over on its end and never righted itself again. When I go back, I always make the time to take him to lunch, to places we used to go when we were dating.

Love never dies. I know this to be true.


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## Olly Buckle (Jan 24, 2018)

A terrific piece of writing, Sue. You kept it plain and simple, when there must have been plenty of opportunities to digress or expand on things, that makes it so much more effective, I really felt for you. Maybe I am blinded by the subject, but I see no nits or typos, and feel you have handled it beautifully.


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## SueC (Jan 24, 2018)

Oh Olly, I worked so hard on this, then had a moment of self doubt and removed it. I put it back. You can't imagine how much your words mean to me. And yes there were those moment to go on and on, but as a reader I don't appreciate that type of writing, so I did my best to avoid it. Thank you for saying it worked. I always respect your opinion and this was no exception. It was a difficult time, but the account is accurate - we both survived. Not everyone does.


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## Plasticweld (Jan 24, 2018)

Sue a great piece of writing on a very difficult subject.  Your crisp and concise sentences are pure power.  The truth is often plain, it is simple and does not need to be embellished. 

Thanks for sharing.


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## SueC (Jan 24, 2018)

Thanks, Bob. Means a lot to me. Trying to share more of myself, because I know this to be a very safe place - you have shown me that.


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## topcol (Jan 25, 2018)

Jesus, SueC, what can I say? This piece of writing has touched me in places I usually keep to myself. My wife Doreen has 2 small aneurysms on her brain caused by her high blood pressure. Various surgeons have told us they can do nothing due to the high risks involved.

Living with me for over 50 years cannot be conducive to lowering anyone's blood pressure so I have to do my damnedest to keep my big mouth shut.

As the others have commented, your stark, unflowery style is exactly right. As a reader, I'm with you every step of the way, heart in mouth, hoping to God that the news will be good.

As far as I'm concerned, magic, fantasy, vampires, werewolves and dragons are fine for seekers after escapism but stories about the human condition are my preference every time when it comes to writing and reading.

ps  paragraph beginning "Fast forward...", "he didn't noticed."

My sincere best wishes, topcol


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## SueC (Jan 25, 2018)

Topcol! You found the one typo - good job! And thank you so much for your comments. How scary that must be to live with. What I went through was all fast paced - we just kept moving from one segment of this story to another, until it's conclusion. You are dealing with something everyday. I'll keep your wife in my thoughts - and you too. At Mayo there was another family who had a young college girl who had experienced two aneurysms - so rare! She recovered very, very well. It all depends on so many variables, so keep the faith, my friend and keep her close. Thanks again for your comments - they mean so much.


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## Firemajic (Jan 25, 2018)

Hello, Sue... I am a fan of your uncluttered style, but I must say, this was hard to read. Not because of any tech issues, as ever, your work is fabulous... This story touched me, gave me a new POV on my situation. My husband passed away after he lost his battle with a terminal brain disease ...I thought losing him was the hardest thing I could ever go through, but after reading your story, I know it could have been so much worse...I am not very eloquent, but I will try... your courage, devotion and love are stunning, I understand some of what you went through as a caregiver for your husband and how the dynamics change in the relationship...and even though I knew, as you did, the anger and hostility that both our husbands directed at us was a symptom of their illness, it still devastates your spirit. Anyway, I am glad you both are still a part of each other's lives.... that says a lot about the love you once shared..Thank you so much for having the courage to share your story....hugs...and peace, hopefully..


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## Roac (Jan 25, 2018)

Wow Sue, wow wow wow. That is an excellent piece. I bet this was a difficult one to write. Thanks for sharing it.

And the writing is fantastic!

As for the typo…there is one? I completely missed it. I must have been too caught up in the story.


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## jk1973 (Feb 23, 2018)

What a touching piece. You writing is very straight forward and uncluttered. Within such a short story you were able to some up an entire marriage full of love and ultimately loss. Well done!


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