It was December, 1999, and my wife Debra (known affectionately as Dink) was
nearing full-time dependance on caregivers as a result of her two-year battle
with Lou Gehrig's Disease. Her only means of communication was an electronic
device that could speak what she typed - with her one good hand - and she was in
a wheelchair. She was, however, still working at Newton General Hospital (NGH),
doing chart reviews and quality assurance duties. This was Dink's response to an
administrator's concerns that the strain of working might adversely affect her
condition:
"On the contrary, being here boosts my immune system because I love it here. I
go on the energy I glean from those around me, so I seldom get tired. If I poop
out, I sit back and breathe deep. If I'm really feeling bad, I have an army of
Moms that can skirt me away. But even tired, I feel better here than home alone.
If I am tired of work, I clock out and piddle around til time to leave. So there
you are: my secret for livin' on love."
Around four o'clock on the afternoon of Wednesday, December 8, I got a call from
the Human Resources director at NGH. He said, "Alan, we need to meet with you
and Debra. When can you come in?" I told him, as a school teacher, I had to work
every day and it would be the next week before I could arrange some time off,
but he pressed, "We really need to meet tomorrow." As we continued talking, he
persisted and I relented so we made an appointment for the next morning.
Dink heard the conversation and realized who I was talking to. When I hung up
the phone and looked at her she was crying and pounding away on her LightWriter,
"I WILL NOT LET THEM FORCE ME TO QUIT!" Her eyes were glaring in a way that
confirmed she would not negotiate that point.
Wanting to refocus all of the emotion I could see on her face, I said, "Well,
work on your argument and get it bullet-proof so we'll be prepared tomorrow." I
don't remember exactly how much planning she did for the next morning's meeting,
but I do remember neither of us could sleep much that night.
When we got to the hospital on Thursday morning we met with the HR director and
the Nursing Services director. Dink was incredibly tense as I wheeled her into
the office, because she was "loaded for bear" and ready to fight it out. Knowing
Dink as they did, though, the managers were very shrewd. They told us the
emotional and physical strain on the people who worked closest to Dink (and
therefore were her primary caregivers at the hospital) was beginning to effect
the caregivers' ability to perform their other duties. Dink immediately
softened. In fact, she didn't even ask any questions for clarification because
she was more adamant about not burdening her friends at work than she was about
staying on the job. We listened distantly as the managers explained the details
about the separation of service, then we all cried, and I took her back home. It
was a long, silent drive.
There were only a couple of weeks of school left until Christmas holidays
started, so Dink stayed home by herself during that time. Before leaving for
school, I would set her up in the recliner with her Bible, another good book,
and the remote control for the TV. I'd also put a movie in the VCR that she
could watch if she wanted. There was one movie she watched almost daily and she
would cry every time she watched it. I said, "Baby, you cry every time you watch
this and you watch it every day...how many more times are you gonna watch it?"
"Until I can watch it without crying."
"Okay, dear."
I would come home each day at lunch to give her a potty break and feed her, make
sure she had everything set up for the afternoon, including another movie if
needed, then head back to school. That system worked fine for those ten or
twelve days, but I knew I would have to make other arrangements for January.
What I didn't know was the fact that those arrangements were already being made.
According to the Bible, your good works here on Earth don't get you into Heaven,
but they do influence the size of your heavenly home. Ardis Young and Lynn
Wojcik must have mansions beyond imagination waiting for them there. Ardis,
calling on members of our church, and Lynn, calling on the staff at NGH, put
together a team of volunteers that came in to sit with Dink when school resumed
in January. They handled the entire matter: recruiting, scheduling and even
training the ladies, whom we called "Dink's Angels." In fact, there were many
days I would leave for school, not knowing who would be coming in that day. Some
of the ladies were nurses, but many were not. Some took time off from work to
come in. Some could come only for mornings, others only for afternoons and a few
could stay the whole day.
Once or twice, I came in at lunch and had to say, "Hi. I'm Alan. Who are you?"
Because I had never met that particular sitter. I never had to think twice about
the entire operation because Ardis and Lynn were so dedicated and took total
responsibility for everything from the very beginning. There's no telling how
much money they saved us, and I can't even begin to estimate how much stress
they personally eliminated from our lives. I wish I could adequately express my
gratitude but, as yet, I have not been authorized to create new words for the
English language and that is exactly what it would take for me to have the right
words to use. Ardis, Lynn, and the rest of the "Angels"...my heart is eternally
yours.
Alan Coleman copyright 2001
bigal@teamflamingo.com
Alan lives in Georgia, where he is hard at work on his book, "Firmly In His
Hands," based on a series of letters written by his wife, Dink. An inspiring
portrayal of their successful approach to day-to- day living as they battled
with Lou Gehrig's Disease, the book should be ready for publishing in the very
near future. Dink joined the ranks of heavenly angels March 28th of 2000. Alan
is our August Writer of the Month - read more about him and see a photo of Alan
and the beautiful Dink, here:
www.2theheart.com/writers_hall_of_fame/
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