When The "What If?" Comes Home To Roost

Angie, my sweet 49-year old wife of almost 25 years was admitted into the hospital this morning.  I rushed her there under the premise that she was having issues with her sciatic nerve (she had numbness in her left leg which is the same side of her bod that she smacked down on back in January when she got tripped up on our driveway).

Unfortunately, it turned out to be much more serious than a pinched sciatic nerve.  Instead, we were soon informed, it looked to be a stroke.

Weirdly, I've had little to no admittance into the hospital(s) due to the pandemic restrictions, therefore other than this horribly frightening news / event, it's been a fairly normal day.

Tonight, I will have an opportunity to spend some time with her.  Her neurologist has been kind enough to bend the rules for us.  Angie is a expert crier, therefore I know whilst there, she'll do some of that for both of us.

We've never walked this particular road before.  Pray for me to stay optimistic, but primarily, pray for Angie.  Her spirits have been and continue to be low indeed.  And this particular setback has effectively knocked her on her back.  And this is the last place she cares to be as my wife and the mother of our three girls.

On occasion, I'll have dreams where I'm back working within the field of architecture, yet I've no recent experience (which I really don't), therefore I'm anxious to boot about how I'm supposed to make this work.  And then I wake up, and thank God, I realize it was only a dream.

This has been one of those days that I wish I could wake up from.