Love:

When Time Stops

By Marian Buckner, BSN, RN

Love Bears All Things
Time stops when a family member becomes seriously ill. It doesn’t really stop, of course. It’s just that nothing is as important as remaining by the loved one’s side, willing him or her, if you can imagine that, to heal. Consider the popular verse from Corinthians: “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things . . . Love never fails.” This aptly conveys the passionate resolve revived when the family member is your life partner of 30 years.

In October 2008, my husband experienced a bad reaction to what should have been a simple outpatient procedure. He was hospitalized for 6 days, then spent the next 2 months struggling to overcome the myriad medical complications that developed. Twenty-four hours after being admitted, Brad developed delirium—a sudden onset of confusion and misperception of person, place, and time. Similar to dementia, which occurs gradually, delirium causes disorientation in the patient, an upsetting experience for everyone involved.

In most cases, delirium resolves in several days. In the atypical case, though, it persists indefinitely. Brad’s delirium stole 6 weeks from him. He doesn’t remember the presidential election, the World Series, or Thanksgiving.

Miracles Happen
Luckily, I am a trained nurse specializing in mental health and have prior experience with such conditions. Because of family medical leave, I was able to stay by Brad’s side 24/7, bearing all things, believing all things, hoping all things, and enduring each day that passed without any sign of improvement.

In the process, I rediscovered that miracles, both small and large, do occur if you remember to look for them. When one doctor disappointed us, a door opened and a superb doctor (Dr. Yong Shin) appeared. She worked with me—on a daily basis when needed—adjusting medicines, times, and dosages. Meals materialized, made with love by friends and neighbors. Offers of help and calls of encouragement kept my spirits up when I wasn’t sure how I’d make it through another evening. Financial support I never anticipated arrived with amazing grace.

The miracle of our daughters, both young adults, who provided unflagging support while battling their own fears, still humbles me. I appreciated their endless capacity for love and forgiveness as the incredible antics of a confused person caused major upheaval in our household. For Brad, it was the 1980s, and his home and the people living in it changed on an hourly basis. Light sleeping became my habit, as Brad slept only for brief periods and, prompted by a sudden thought, would sometimes feel compelled to take a walk outside in the dark. Clever tests to prove who I was became part of our daily dialogue.

Time Is Relative
Time changes when it is taken away—when memories no longer exist for the one who made them with you. Our first date, our marriage, the births of our daughters, their childhood, and our home all disappeared in the blink of an eye. The depth and breadth of our life together suddenly vanished, and I felt without roots as I cared for this man who didn’t recognize me. We had no past, and the future we had hoped for was too painful to think about.

Time loses meaning in the normal sense when “now” is all you can consider. This delirium brought home the truest of truths that “now” is really all you have. Not a day went by that I didn’t fervently pray for my husband to come back to me. When I would tell Brad what I prayed for, he’d ask, “When did we break up?” Any small improvement was cause for celebration: better sleep patterns, longer periods of lucidity, increased ability to concentrate on a game of backgammon.

I know miracles can happen—eventually, Brad recovered. We believed and hoped, and our love endured. I am so grateful for the return of my husband and our shared memories. All the small irritations that 30 years of a relationship may harbor and that used to bother me are now insignificant. I pray that this perspective never changes, and each day will be the blessing I see it is “now.”

“The greatest thing we will ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”——from "Nature Boy," Eden Ahbez, 1947.

Links
Eckhart Tolle: The Power of Now

eMedicine, from WebMD: Delirium

Caregiving and Family Harmony

Behavior Management Strategies