The Next Shoe Drops

             The next day is not any better.  I had to work, so I asked our 

friend Mike if he could bring Jeff to get an MRI.

 After getting home from work, picking up stuff around the house and throwing in a load of laundry I realize over an hour had passed and I am beginning to get worried, why isn’t Jeff home yet? So I called Mike on his cell to find out where they are.

Mike tells me that Jeff was disoriented.  He had dropped him off in front of the entrance of the hospital, parked the car and went to where the MRI is located only to discover that Jeff wasn’t there.  A few minutes later one of the security guys escorts Jeff in and told Mike that he got lost.

He said that they are on their way back now, and should be at my house in about 15 minutes.

I keep glancing out the front window, waiting to see Mike’s car pull up.

A little while later Mike drives up and parks in front of the house and Jeff climbs out of his truck.  As I watch him shuffle down the drive way, towards the steps, I see Mike drive away, and my gut tells me to meet him on the front stoop. 

Sure enough, just as I open the door, he starts to walk up the steps and begins to fall.  His legs buckle underneath him as I lunged down and grabbed him underneath his arms just as he was going to slide down the stairs.  But I can’t lift him up and I’m crouched on the stairs holding on to him so he won’t fall down.  He is too heavy for me.

Luckily, I see our neighbor Beverly, drive her car up the street and pull into their driveway across from our house. As she got out of her car I called out to her to get her husband Manfred to please come help us. She sees whats going on and dashes inside.

Manfred comes running across the street and grabs hold of Jeff under one arm, as I grab underneath the other arm, and we both help get him up the stairs, into the house, and then up a few more steps to our main floor landing where we sat him down on our stoop.

Manfred is shaken to see Jeff like this, to me it has become second nature, unfortunately. He wants to help Jeff get into the living room to sit on the couch but Jeff is also shaken and he waves him off, saying he just wants to sit there a minute and regain his balance.

I explain to Manfred that Jeff should be ok in a few minutes. He has had these episodes before, throughout the whole month of December and into January, before his last operation.

He assures us that he is right across the street if we need anything else. I thank him so much for his help, as I accompany him to the front door to let him out.  Without his help I wouldn’t have been able to get Jeff up the stairs by myself.

A little while later Jeff was able to walk on his own from the stoop over to the couch and he planted himself there for a while.  Luckily considerate people from our church had brought by some food so I heated up dinner, helped Zack with his homework and then went to relax on the couch before both Jeff and Zack went off to bed at the same time.

I went into the kitchen and made myself some tea.  I hadn’t ate much at dinner, and couldn’t seem to eat anything substantial the last few days.

I got an immediate twist in my stomach.  We are scheduled to go see Dr. Beyerl on Monday, after getting his MRI today, and Jeff is scheduled to have a PET scan next week.  Why do I get the feeling that the situation is heating up! I feel like a passenger on a runaway train and I can’t stop it and get off ~ I am stuck RIDING it as it barrels out of control.