The information swarmed inside my head like an angered bee hive. My vision clouded, The hallway was blurry and sideways. I walked with intense effort telling myself to just keep moving. I found the wall and slid down it until I passed through the ICU entrance doors. The stairwell was less than fifty steps in front of me. With great effort I made it to the stairs. I passed through the doors and with everything in a complete haze I made my way down the stairs. The ICU was on the 5th floor the closest outside entrance was on the third. I managed five flights of stairs, I wasn’t breathing, I needed air, just make it outside I kept telling myself. Finally I could see the door leading outside, fresh air that is what I need. I was trembling, everything around me sounded like a bad connection on a cell phone. I found my way through the doors and to an area to sit down. I noticed there were people coming and going. Completely unaware that my life, my world was ending. My hand trembled as I reached for my phone I dialed, the phone connected. Hello came through the other end. I hyperventilated, gasping, crying, The other end of the phone was a soothing, voice saying, “calm down, I cant make out anything, I am so sorry, tell me what is happening”  These words continued over and over for the nearly five minutes I hyper ventilated.  I managed to spit out “They are going to let him die” The voice on the other end of the phone Solemn, strong and caring. Said “Oh sweetie, I am so sorry”.

The world never noticed the ghost of a woman slinking the halls, shattered. I composed myself and made my way back into the hospital, back up the stairs and through the doors of the ICU, Down the long corridor to his room. I climbed up next to him and I sobbed, I listened to his heart, held his hand and told him how much I needed him. I told him that he couldn’t die. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I told him I loved him. I breathed in the smell of his skin and traced my fingers over his tattoos. I told him I wouldn’t say goodbye.

He died just four hours later surrounded by his family. A piece of me died that day as well.

http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/kvnews/obituary.aspx?n=jeremy-forgey&pid=174264783

Day 6
I awoke to the sounds of automatic doors and clanging carts. I was momentarily disoriented. I quickly realized I was still in the ICU waiting room. I found my glasses and put on my shoes. I was dizzy as I stood. I felt sick but I walked down to see how his procedure had gone.
When I arrived to his room he was sleeping. I was updated to the fact that he had not had the procedure. I felt irritation boiling up from my insides. I sat by his side holding his very cold hand and fell asleep. I slept like that  nearly 45 minutes until the crick in my neck and ache in my legs screamed ENOUGH.
I phoned his mother to update her that nothing had been done and they weren’t sure when they would begin the procedure. It became a long day of wait and worry.
After the scope was completed, they updated that he was still actively bleeding from his gastrointestinal tract. They wanted to do another procedure to attempt to “tie off” the areas that were bleeding. It was another explorative option. There was no question that we would want the procedure but the energy amongst us all was that which uncertainty brings. We were afraid.

The procedure took nearly four hours. They placed twelve coils on his bleeding varicees. They were hopeful this was the “fix” to the bleeding. We gave each other “high fives” and we felt a slight bit of relief……
His cousin and I stayed in his room. We wanted to be there when the sedation wore off and he woke up. By 3:00a.m. He was still very sedated and I decided to try and get some rest. I slept for about two hours and tried to fall back to sleep for another two hours before I decided to give up the fight and get up.

Day 7:
He was still very sedated and very non responsive. With great effort I could get him to turn his head or flutter his eyes but that was about all. He had been off pain meds and sedation since 2:00a.m. But wasn’t waking. We were becoming worried.
Throughout the day his kidney function began to fail and his liver enzymes climbed. He stayed non responsive but for extensive effort by the nursing staff. The staff explained that because of everything he had been through the last few days it wasn’t uncommon for him to be so sleepy.
His kidneys had taken a hit and he was retaining fluid. He was holding about a 100 pounds of fluid.

They continued to supply him with blood products to keep his hematocrit at a stable level. They performed an ultrasound on his liver to see how the procedure they had done the night before was functioning. It took a little over an hour and we wouldn’t have results for several hours.

It’s amazing how quickly the hours have passed by considering we aren’t doing anything. My days blend together and I have to think hard to be aware of which day it is.

The day continued on and he remained asleep and non responsive. There wasn’t much change. With encouragement I went to dinner with his sister and aunts. It was good company and a delicious meal. After dinner we returned to the hospital. I went back briefly to say goodbye and tell him I was heading home to let Zoe out and take a shower.

I became aware of how exhausted I was once I was driving. I drove home in a foggy haze struggling to stay awake. My intention was to let Zoe out, shower and head back to the hospital. Once I was home I thought taking a short nap might be a good idea.

I messaged his cousin to check on his status and let her know I was going to catch a few ZZZZZ’s. She messaged back that he was fine and I should get some rest. I turned Pandora on and the second song to play was Hunter Hayes “wanted” which happens to be our song. I cried and drifted into a heavy and restful sleep.

Day 5:
Sleep is a funny thing as it both eludes and overtakes me. Exhausted I laid in bed praying and crying.  I attempted to distract myself watching a movie on the IPad. I awoke startled feeling like someone was there. Zoe was snoring. I removed the IPad from my chest, rolled over and I heard my phone receive a text. A bit of adrenaline shot through my body. I decided if it was emergent the phone would ring. I drifted back to sleep.

I found him in my sleep again. He was strong. He held me close and told me he loved me. We sat together. I felt a calming within.  My dreams shifted and he was no longer there. I awoke several times through the night trying to find him again but he wasn’t there.

He had been fairly stable throughout the night. The bleeding didn’t subside but it was much less. The outlook was promising to be transferred to the University hospital.  It was a long day of waiting for everything to come together. He was much more interactive and responsive. He gave me a dirty look after I told him he couldn’t get up and walk to the bathroom. His sister and I both laughed at his reaction. He nodded yes when I said I wished I could climb in the bed next to him, and he moved his arm completely across his body when I asked him to hold my hand.

Things weren’t exactly better but we were all full of hope when they confirmed he would be transferred at five o’clock.  The let me stay with him while they unhooked all twenty of his wires, gadgets, I.V.’s, etc. The transfer team were extremely kind and caring. They allowed me to walk with them all the way to the ambulance. I kissed him and told him one more time to have an uneventful ride over the the UW.
The Ambulance bay had a perfect view where I captured a couple pictures of the beautiful sunset he would be “riding” off in.

I went home to take care of Zoe and let her know he was doing okay. During my drive I talked with a dear friend and my sister: both of which let me cry, rant, vent and process the past several days.

I missed my exit and didn’t realize until I had bypassed it by five miles. I got myself turned around took the correct exit and found the hospital. The following twenty minutes would include three trips circling the hospital attempting to find the “right” parking garage. After parking twice and not being in the right place I called his sister. Instead of hello I started the call with “I’m about to have a breakdown over parking” She laughed and talked me to the right garage and up to his bedside.
When I arrived I learned he had remained stable for the ride over to the University of Washington. Yay! This was great news. They were giving him fluids and keeping him stable. The docs came in and said the would be extubating him soon. I was thrilled to hear this.

At just after 11:00p.m. They removed the breathing tube.  He was alert and talking.  He was slightly disoriented ( he thought he could get up and walk) and he kept getting frustrated that I wouldn’t help him get out of the bed ( I am so mean :D). I asked him if he remembered me laying with him and he shook his head yes and clearly said “You still can”. They had some pretty good meds keeping him comfortable and he would drift off then wake up and say something that would make his cousin and I laugh.

One of the doctors came in and said they wanted to perform another endoscopy to look (again) and see if they could find the source of the bleeding. She apologized and said that they would need to intubate again. I was less than pleased. When I told him their plan, he said “No” and I told him I didn’t want it either. They assured that this time they would take it out as soon as they were done.
I couldn’t help but cry, there was relief being able to hear his voice and to kiss him. I feared they would leave him intubated for days again. He looked over as the tears poured from my eyes and he so gently raised his hand to my face and said “I’m gonna be okay,I love you”. The tears continued.  I kissed him. The doctor came in and explained to him the procedure and he nodded yes.  He looked over to me and said “make sure you tell my parents”. I told him they already knew. He said “thank you” and drifted back into his pain medication.

I made my way down to the waiting area with his cousin, plopped onto the couch and I sobbed. She asked me what my biggest worry was and I said “I honestly dont even know anymore”. We talked about what could have been done differently (if anything) to avoid being here now. We agreed even if it had only been a few hours it was great to have had the ability to talk with him. We talked about the events of the past few days. We sat silently staring off, lost in our own thoughts.
Finally I gave up the fight and found three hours of restless sleep.

Day 4:
Morning came with unpleasant news. He had lost a lot of blood throughout the night and they didn’t know why.
I was only able to be with him for about twenty minutes before they began looking for the bleeds. The first procedure was an Ultrasound followed by Endoscopy.
There was nothing for us to do but wait. We reminisced and shared stories. I found the ability to eat a little. Hours passed (nearly seven if I were counting) before I could see him again. The update from the doctors brought no real answers. They still needed to perform a CT Scan but needed to stabalize him first. I cried. I rested my headed against his and I told him how important it is for him to stay strong and to fight.  I told him how much he was needed.  I told him to tell his cells to find the problem and fix it. I told him I love him.
Saying goodnight was difficult. Knowing he had a long night ahead of him was scary. Knowing there was nothing any of us could do felt crippling. I cried most of the way home.
I was almost as happy to see Zoe (his dog) as she was to see me. (Don’t tell him but I’ve grown to care for her deeply. One might even say I love her.) She has been a trooper through all of this. She misses him , she is anxiously awaiting his return.  I keep telling her I miss him too.
His sister and her “husband” came over to keep Zoe and I company for a while. It was nice not feeling so alone……….Until they headed back to get some rest at the motel.
Zoe looked for him before she laid down on the floor next to my side of the bed. It was then  I missed him even more. And again I cried.

I’ve walked through this life with what my mother likes to call “rose colored glasses”.  Unfortunate situations arise bad things happen but somehow I’m always ready to rally for the positive. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing it’s just a good window to see me for who I am. I have my down trodden moments, I feel like giving up, and I have been guilty a time or two of negative thoughts. No amount of positive ( or negative) thinking ever prepares you to have someone you love fighting to live.

I wanted ever so badly to believe it was just food poisoning, or the flu.  He knew better.I heard it in his voice when I answered the phone. ” Baby, I’m not doing so good”. Something in his tone worried me.  After discussing what he had been experiencing we agreed a phone call to the doctor was a good idea. He called back after talking with them and sure enough they wanted him to come in for lab work and a stool sample. I told him I would be on my way shortly. Neither of us were prepared for what was just around the corner.

February 12, 2015 Day 1:
The lab work told them he was bleeding internally and they would need to do an emergency “scope” to see where the blood was coming from.  Scrambling to secure care for the kids we arrived to the hospital just before 5:00p.m.
Things went south quickly after arrival. He was vomitting blood. They rushed him to a bed in the ER department. My adrenaline was in full swing.  I made a  phone call to his parents to see how long they would be.  I held his hand and kissed him. He assured me he was going to be okay……..

February 13, 2015 Day 2: The scope discovered bleeding from his varicees in his lower intestine. The news was grave. Anything they could do to help him came with severe risks. I cried, his parents cried, his sister cried. But in the end we all agreed that he would want the surgery.
I’ve never faced anything so difficult before. He was sedated and intibated when each of us took our turn to tell him we love him, stay strong, fight to live.
The surgery took nearly six hours, I cried a thousand tears and prayed a thousand prayers.
Divine intervention allowed his mother and I a one on one conversation of the procedure with the surgeons. The doctors said the procedure took longer than anticipated but it went exactly as it should. The next several days will be tenuous but God willing the procedure would stop the bleeding.
We went home attempted rest and hoped for the best. Sleep eluded me. I saw him in my dreams. I asked him to keep fighting. I told him I needed him. I told him I love him.

February 14, 2015 Day 3:
The swelling had decreased, he looked better. He had been stable through the night and there was hope to remove the breathing tube later in the day.  I spent most of the day by his side. My hand on his heart and running my fingers through his hair. I cried, I prayed, I hoped and I loved him even more.  This man who had come into my life at my darkest hour and rescued me. Showed me love, compassion and kindness. Awakened life and new beginngs.  I wanted to be no where other than by his side, encouraging him to fight,stay alive and get well.
He turned sometime late afternoon, it had become clear he was bleeding again, concern furrowed the brows of the hospital staff, my heart worried, the tears returned.  The doctors began treatment hoping he would stop bleeding and then started they monitored and I prayed.
It was 11:00p.m. when the ICU nurse with firm kindness told me I needed to go home, eat, and rest.  It was hard to leave but I listened. Sleep was restless. I was looking for him in my dreams, he wasn’t there.