Dilemma

"I want you to promise me that if I don't wake up, you'll spend time with your family. You haven't given them a fair chance, you know. I haven't pushed you because your pain is so deep and ... well, I knew how you'd react. I didn't want to create any barriers to us. If I'm not here, you have to let them help you. They will you know. ..."

Even I could hear the pain in my voice when I croaked, "They chose her side. ..."

"You don't know that, all you really know is that your father reacted with anger at the pain you caused. That's a natural male reaction to pain, you know. You do know it, you do it yourself. Someone hurts you or someone you love and you get mad. It's not a bad thing, even in today's society. Righteous indignation has its place, but you need to give them a chance. They're desperate to contact you, and will be here in a flash if you let them. ..."

"You've talked to them!" Forgetting where we were and why, I was shocked and angry!

Cindy just smiled that serene smile and as it does when I'm mad at her, it made me furious. Generally, a good portion of that anger was because I was pretty sure how our fights would end. If there's anything that I could say negative about Cindy is that she won't fight with me. I think sometimes couples need to fight just to clear the air. Cindy didn't. She either listened and agreed with me, or by a process I never did understand she listened and I'd realize that I needed to apologize. It was maddening!

I'd asked her once why she never reacted the way most humans do when someone gets mad at them. I sort of figured it had something to do with her heart. Samuel Johnson once said, "Depend upon it, sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully." I figured she'd just decided to live each moment as if it were her last. Instead she'd caressed my check and said, "When I first decided that I was called to the ministry, I was pretty upset. I hadn't been living the sort of life ministers are supposed to live, and didn't want to. On top of that, I was what you might call a volatile personality. God promised to give me peace with my vocation. He has kept his promise, even if I haven't been all that good about keeping mine. Besides, if something happened to you, I couldn't stand for our last conversation to be a fight."

That conversation was rattling around in the back of my mind, but I was determined this time. The last thing I wanted was for my parents to find me. "Cindy! You know ..."

"I used your trick with the disposable cell phone, and no, they don't have any idea where you are. We've had many long talks and I would never betray your confidence, but I couldn't let people who love you, worry themselves sick over you. They'd hired detectives to find you, and my talking to them has actually given you more time."

She paused and I saw pain on her face, "Was I wrong? Chris we all love you, please don't be mad at me. I..."

I broke, "My God Cindy, how could I be mad at you for doing what you think is right. I'll do it, I'll see them, but you have to promise me you'll go with me. I don't want to see them alone."

She smiled again, "What sort of girl do you think I am? I've been dying to be presented to the parents. I've even picked out a dress."

One of the nurses poked her head in, "We can't wait any longer. He can walk with you to the operating room if you'd like."

We didn't talk as they wheeled her down the hall and into an open elevator. I just held her hand. It wasn't until later that I realized that she didn't show any nervousness even when they opened the doors to the OR. I wasn't allowed in but I saw the place and I felt the chill of that cold sterile place through the opened doors.

In that pause Cindy pulled me down and kissed me. It wasn't a goodbye kiss; it was the sort of kiss that tented my pants.

"The next time you see me, I'll have all sorts of tubes in my mouth and I'll look a mess. Just consider that what you call 'a lick and promise' for what you'll get when I'm back up speed. I love you Chris, and with a healthy heart I'll love you even more!"

"I love you too. Marry me?" I blurted.

Cindy beamed, "Of course, what girl could resist a proposal in such romantic surroundings ... just look at my nipples."

The cold had both standing at attention, and the uncharacteristic sexual humor brought a guffaw from me. She smiled and winked as they took her on into the OR and the doors closed behind her.

I shivered. I know it was the cold, not the nagging thought that that might have been my last view. A nurse led me away and it wasn't until I saw her family that what I'd said crashed in on me. I'd asked her to marry me and she'd accepted.

She'd understood that it wasn't tied up in the drama of the transplant, but I fully understood that she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, the woman I wanted to make babies with, grow old with.

Understanding that I might lose her made me again realize just how special it was to be around her. Aside from idle daydreams, most of us have no illusions about having our names in history books or making a difference in the larger world. Cindy, although that wasn't her goal, was one of those people who not only could, but if she lived long enough, would be read about by children in future classes.

To have someone great want you was heady stuff, perhaps enough to bridge the gap between what I could give her and what I'd had with Lorelei. It would have to be, no one else had nearly as much to offer.

Thinking those "deep thoughts" so consumed me, that I was shocked to see I'd been in the waiting room almost an hour when Sandy proffered me a cup of coffee.

"I'd say a penny for your thoughts, but I suspect they're worth a lot more, and judging from your smile, they just might make me blush. My sister's a very special woman, and I'd almost given up hope that she'd ever find T-U-L-O-M-L."

I cocked an eyebrow and she continued "The Unmet Love of My Life, that's what she said she was waiting for, she never used the term after the day she met you."

I took a sip of the coffee, it was sweet with cream, just the way I liked it. Since I'd never had coffee with Sandy, I knew it was something Cindy had told her about me. It's frightening what women will tell each other. Cindy took her coffee black and teased me about ruining perfectly good coffee, but who'd think she'd tell her sister about it.

Some bit of insane whimsy had me blurt, "Cindy told me she was a bit of wild child, but somehow I just can't see her that way."

"You want to hear about sinful Cindy the superslut? Cindy once asked me to talk to you about her 'years on the dark side.' She said she's very concerned that you 'have her on some sort of spiritual pedestal.' She just doesn't see herself the way we do, and that's part of what makes her special."

I gave her a rueful smile, "I've never been around ministers, and I don't think it's a standard I could meet. I do want to hear about her walk on the wild side though. She started to tell me once but we got sidetracked. Not the details, but I'd like to know what her family saw and thought."

"We weren't a particularly religious family. We missed church about as often as we went. Just regular pew-sitters while Cindy was growing up. She was a very normal high school girl, more popular than most. She was voted 'Most Friendly' in her class, but she didn't date that much.

"Like so many of us, she let loose in a big way about halfway through her first semester at college. By the time she was a sophomore she was a party girl. I don't know how many guys she drug home, but she was insistent that they always stay in her room, together. She was about as blatant as she could be. It caused some knock-down, drag-out fights, but she was on full academic scholarship -- did you know she's a National Merit Scholar? She just told Mom and Dad that if they objected she wouldn't come home at all ... ever!

"Toward the end of her sophomore year, she went to some sort of Christian Crusade and came home saying she'd finally given her life to Jesus! We were more than a bit skeptical. I do know that she stopped the drugs, but she lived with at least three more guys before she graduated.

"When she announced she was going to seminary, we were all shocked. I asked her about why she'd made that choice and she said she knew for sure at that crusade. She said that changing who you are takes time, even with Christ's help. She said so many Christians expect instant change, that they sometimes even question their conversion.

"You know she has problems with the term 'born again' because she says too many people assume that the new person won't be subject to the same temptations that the old one had. She said it could work that way, but generally being 'born again' meant you still lived in the same place and had the same problems. It's your desires goals that change, and the new friends you pick up, are the reason you start moving to live your new values. She said, she didn't take as long a Paul on his road to Damascus, but she also said it would be a lifelong process.

"I think that's part of what makes her so attractive to others, she can accept that they struggle and fail, backslide and fall, but as long as they don't give up she's right there with them.

"I asked her how she was able to give up sex once. She looked me straight in the eye and said 'The love of Jesus and a good vibrator.' I know you've talked about that, but I wanted you to know that I don't think you have anything to worry about with Cindy.

"I can't believe I'm talking about Cindy's sex life, especially at a time like this, but like I said, this was something she wanted you to know and hadn't been able to talk to you about it. I don't think there are many things that Cindy is ashamed about, but her wild-child days do bother her. If you want my opinion, she knew for a very long time that she was called to the ministry and she rebelled against the idea. In the end she submitted, and I think her experience has helped her understand the rest of us poor mortals a bit more than most ministers."

Time can't really stop, and no matter how many hours pass between ticks of the clock it does pass. Every so often someone would pop in and give us an update. They were always upbeat and so damn cheery it made my skin crawl. I visited with her parents, I read technical manuals, OK I looked at the pages and studied the clock. Several times I tried counting seconds to see how close I could get to when the minute would change.

At one point there was a long span with no news. Then a doctor came out to tell us that because of the damage they were going to go for a different transplant process, instead of the more common orthotopic process where the back half of both atriums are left in place. We were told not to worry, that Cindy was very strong and that she was doing fine.

I'd become an expert in heart transplants, because of the information that Temple provided and what's available on the internet, but that just made me more aware of all the things that could go wrong. After a few more interglacial eras, her surgeon came out to tell us that Cindy was in recovery and that we could go see her one at a time.

"She's doing better than any patient I can remember, we still have some major hurdles, but the fit was close to perfect."

I went first; it just never occurred to me that her family should have had precedence. I was gowned and I wasn't allowed to actually touch her but I could watch her. She didn't look like patients do in the movies. I think actors are too vain to ever allow themselves to look that bad.

Cindy had been in the battle of her life for her life and she looked it. Her thick luscious hair had been cut short a month ago to make it easier to keep in the hospital, but I'd never seen it so matted and disheveled. Her face still had that unhealthy puffy look that bespoke fluid retention. She was naked and from her neck to her ankles but her flawless skin had been drenched in that horrible orange stuff they use to fight infection. I'd never seen her genitals, but I was pretty sure her shaved bush was done by them for some reason. I swallowed hard at the indignity she must have felt having that done to her. Her legs were parted and a nurse was pressing on a bandage that looked like it had a tennis ball in it. It was just below the junction of her legs and I knew they'd opened the big femoral artery for some reason.

I saw all of that with my peripheral vision. My eyes locked on the long angry scar between her breasts. Those beautiful breasts looked battered and bruised, but I was immediately concerned that there was a huge pucker at the top of the incision and by the two huge tubes protruding just below the cut.

I don't think she'd ever looked worse or more beautiful to me. She had a tube in her mouth but she was breathing. She was alive. I know the folks talk about how this or that person looked "just like they were sleeping," when they go to a funeral viewing. I've never thought that. They looked dead. Some looked nicer than others, but no one would think for a second that they were alive. Cindy, even with all the things that screamed 'unnatural' was clearly alive.

I wasn't aware of the tears in my eyes until once ran across my lips. I wasn't sure why I was crying but I knew that the day had just turned brighter. I knew that we faced more 'opportunities' in the next few months than most couple face in decades, but we would have each other to face them together.

** ** ** ** ** Chapter 5

They released her from the hospital 10 days later... an unconscionable short stay in my opinion. I drove her to her apartment, where her mother was going to provide ongoing care. She clutched a little heart-shaped pillow to her chest to help the deep bone pain that even the smallest movement evoked. How could the hospital release someone who couldn't suppress a moan every time I hit a pothole?

Still, they did some things right. We'd had all sorts of warnings and counseling sessions. Depression is one of the almost universal side effects of open-heart surgery, and generally worst for transplant patients. So many patients, and their families aren't prepared for it. Temple had a great program and we were taught what to look for and what to expect.

I think one of the worst of "hidden problems," was that so often the depression was masked by the medication that was needed to deal with the chest pain. We were also warned about the fear factor. Because her sternum had been sawed in two she would have chest pain. It would be very difficult for her to discern the difference between that pain and the pain she'd come to associate with heart problems.

It was strongly recommended that she not be left alone for at least four weeks. Of course she'd be going to the clinic once or twice a week for the first month then weekly for the next month or so, until she would hit her maintenance of once every other month. But she also needed people and life around her ... as if getting people to stay with Cindy was a problem -- just the opposite!

There were a host of other things, but the bottom line was that while life would never be normal again, she would live! The really good news was that about 50 percent of heart transplant patients were still alive 10 years later. One had made it longer than 25 years!

It's funny, after staring death in the face for so long, you just don't think about what those number mean. I'm not being negative, but for someone our age to know that we'd probably not celebrate her 50th birthday is sad. I suppose it's better to concentrate on the joy of being able to plan for her big three-oh party.

It was a little longer than four months after Cindy got her heart that we boarded a plane for Austin. Of course she'd been in contact with my folks, and her serenity about the trip was making me a nervous wreck. I was assured that I wouldn't see Lorelei, or hear her name, but how could I not? She lived in the same house with her mother, and it was still only a little more than a block away from my folks.

Of course I'd never asked the question directly, but from the start of her homebound time, Cindy openly talked to my parents on a daily basis. After her first call, Cindy had asked if I wanted to know how "my ex" was doing and I had a mild panic attack.

I hadn't told anyone, but once I'd asked Cindy to marry me, hearing or seeing the name no longer seemed to affect me. Still that was a whole different kettle of fish from hearing the details of her new life, or God forbid, having to see or talk to her. When Cindy made the arrangements to fly down there, she assured me I wouldn't have to see "my ex."

I know that there are some men who want to keep up with their ex-wives. That wasn't me! If I thought about seeing Lorelei, it was as if my mind saw a door filled with grey fog, like you might see in a slasher movie. Or perhaps what those old mapmaker thought lay beyond the edge of the Earth. "Here live dragons!" Whatever image you wish to use it was a place my mind refused to go. Even the thought of being forced to talk about her was enough to make me fidget and if I thought about it long enough, I'd break into a sweat.

If that meant I still had issues, I didn't care. As long as I wasn't force through that door or into the mouths of dragons I was happy. I was normal and I was in love with Cindy. I know that I'd shied every time I'd approached that juncture before, but helping to take care of her, cured me. Bringing her bedpans in the hospital and being in charge of her physical therapy once she got home let me see her at her worst. I even heard her curse! It was the first time, against doctor's orders, she sat down in her tub and couldn't lift herself up.

I had cleaned her mouth when the drugs made her sick and too weak to even hold her head up. I'd seen her at her emotional worst. I'd seen her pain make her short tempered and I'd seen her loopy from taking OxyContin. OxyContin is a miracle drug, but I do pray that I never have to take it. Aside from the personality changes, Cindy was also unnaturally upbeat, was it the drug or the lack of pain that made her assume she could do all sorts of things she couldn't. I'll never forget the day I caught her trying to flip the mattress in her guest room! As I laid into her she wasn't nearly as repentant as she should have been. That was another effect of the meds. I did thank God when she was able to get by with lesser pain medications.

I'd never thought about it, but pain serves a real purpose. It keeps us from damaging ourselves. You don't stir boiling water with your hand because it hurts. Cindy felt so little pain that for a few weeks she tried to talk us into letting her got back to work part time. Part of Cindy's nature is to help people and she never stopped that, but ... well if you've ever been around anyone who has been really sick you know the stories I could tell.

Besides, I think it's easier to dwell on those than what happened when we arrived in Austin. I insisted that my folks not meet us at the airport. I rented a nice car and I got us a double room at the Red Roof Inn in Round Rock. When I was a kid it had been a Hyatt and I knew the rooms would be fine. It was 10 miles or so further north of where my folks lived in Pflugerville, but I didn't want to stay that close to them. I thought there'd be less likelihood of seeing old friends if we stayed up in Round Rock.

Cindy didn't even fuss about our sharing a room. It wasn't a matter of cost, but while she was much better by this point, she still shouldn't be left by herself. We slept together in the same bed frequently, we just didn't have sex. You want a layman's view of hell? Try doing that with a sexy woman you love!