Diagnosis: Heart Attack. Karla Weller

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СКАЧАТЬ me, the next logical step was to remove the tube from his stomach and start getting Gerd used to eating and drinking regular food and water. Unfortunately, my opinion led to an argument with the chief physician. From his medical point of view, he found it essential for Gerd to continue artificially feeding because that was the only way to determine how much food and, in particular, fluids, Gerd had consumed every day. I explained to him how Gerd must feel not having had anything to drink for weeks; that the mucus membranes in his mouth and throat were completely dried out. And enjoying a delicious meal had always meant to me an increase in quality in life.

      But he was convinced Gerd was doing fine and the chance of choking and causing another lung infection was way too much of a risk!

      Since I knew that food and drink had always been one of Gerd’s favorites, I insisted they’d give it a try, and the chief physician supervised personally! He fed Gerd, who was strapped to a wheelchair, a spoonful of yogurt while a nurse and I watched in suspense. Gerd clearly enjoyed the taste and had no problems chewing and swallowing! As though he wanted to prove me wrong, now the doctor fed Gerd several spoonsful of yogurt at shorter and shorter intervals, but still Gerd easily ate the food he was fed and clearly enjoyed the change. He even made a few happy sounds and smacked his tongue. “Mmmm! Good!”

      Almost annoyed, the doctor gruffly placed the cup of yogurt and the spoon on the table and left the nurse and me alone in the hospital room with Gerd.

      On the contrary, the outcomes of the neurological examinations were less pleasant as they indicated Gerd was blind! I could hardly believe that, because when someone spoke to him, he always turned his head in the direction of the speaker. His blue eyes seemed so alive they gave the impression he could see. Unfortunately, the test results were very distinct and left no room for speculation nor hope for improvement.

      But there was even more to deal with. As often as we could, we moved Gerd from his hospital bed to a wheelchair and took him for a little ride right through the numerous buildings of the clinic, where we would usually end up at the small self-service cafeteria.

      Whenever Gerd heard the sound of the automated coffee machine, his ears would perk up, he would turn his head in that direction and start tapping on the surface of the wheelchair tray table as though he were programming a machine.

      I wasn’t sure if I should consider this reaction good or bad. On the one hand, any reaction to his environment was a good thing, but on the other, it showed how connected Gerd was to his job that it even had become instinct. He clearly knew what to do when it came to machines, but couldn’t recognize that he wasn’t at work, but in an early rehabilitation clinic, strapped to a wheelchair! The degree to which Gerd was helplessly trapped in a complex situation remained unclear to outsiders and frightened me in particular!

      So I tried to think of alternative ways how to use Gerd’s instinctive reactions for his brain’s rehab and considered bringing a kid’s laptop to the hospital, that Justin had played with years ago.

      The display showed pictures and figures and one was supposed to say their names aloud. Or it said English words which the person would repeat in German and vice-versa. Intuitively I thought it would be good training. But then I started questioning everything: what if Gerd was insulted by me bringing him a child’s toy, or even worse, what if Gerd couldn’t operate the child’s toy after all?

      Nevertheless, I dug out the yellow-red colored laptop from the garage. It even still worked perfectly after all these years! I tried out a few programs and everything went smoothly. I almost wished the stupid thing had been broken, since that would have made the whole matter moot. Should I take it to the clinic or leave it? Could I handle the disappointment if Gerd couldn’t handle the toy?

      A few days later, Gerd’s hiking friends came to visit. They had driven to the Alps with mixed feelings and high expectations. They must have felt a bit melancholy on the drive, since they had just driven the stretch with Gerd a few months prior to go hiking in the mountains and spend a weekend of camaraderie together. This time, they even brought alcohol-free beer with them as a treat for Gerd.

      No one ever told me exactly what happened that weekend, but his friends had not been prepared to see Gerd like that. Sure, they knew he needed help, but the fact that his disabilities were so complex was hard for his friends to cope with and very few of them were able to handle it at all.

      Even worse, Gerd couldn’t remember his friends’ visit later on. When I asked him if he’d had visitors, he denied. Had his friends given him a gift? What had they talked about? He responded no to all of my questions and when I tried to press him, he only grew angry.

      A few weekends later, Gerd received a visit from his friend and supervisor, Robert. He arrived with two huge bouquets of flowers together with get well cards signed by Gerd’s colleagues and the management.

      I had encouraged Robert to visit Gerd in the hospital earlier, but he always used the excuse that only close relatives were allowed in the intensive care unit. Robert had experienced his own “ground zero” a few years ago when he was in a coma for a couple of days after having a stroke. So he knew approximately what to expect with Gerd. Now the time had come for Robert to face his own fears and visit his friend and colleague.

      That Sunday, my mother and Justin had both joined me going to the clinic. When Robert arrived, Justin met him in the parking lot to show his way to the ward.

      Before he was allowed to go into the hospital room, we all had to wait in the hallway while the nurses got Gerd ready, strapped him in to the chair and then wheeled him out.

      For some reason, I was terribly nervous. Sometimes, Gerd wouldn’t let the nurses touch him and screamed as they washed and dressed him. Somehow, I constantly had the feeling I had to protect him and make sure he made the best possible impression on the others. If Gerd didn’t recall something or couldn’t say anything, I felt like I had failed personally. Like an over-motivated mother that felt guilty when her child got bad grades in school. For years, I still believed Gerd couldn’t cope with his disability, couldn’t accept his fate, but finally I realized, I couldn’t either!

      Whatever Robert may have thought when he saw his friend, he kept it to himself and talked to Gerd as “normally” as he could. I breathed a sigh of relief. Robert was in fact one of the few people who was able to deal with Gerd’s condition. And Gerd was clearly happy to see him and would have loved to return straight to the company with him and start working again.

      Although it was fairly cold outside, Robert took Gerd for a walk through the gardens at the rehabilitation clinic and when they returned his face was all smiles. Robert had the feeling Gerd could see very well, since he looked back at the people they ran into and was able to differentiate between men and women! Robert’s positive feedback was proof to me that Gerd really was making progress.

      Over the next few weeks, his rehabilitation program was expanded: practicing eating and drinking with therapeutic supervision was now added to the plan. Besides, Gerd also started practicing walking on a treadmill. In order to prevent the risk of falling, Gerd was strapped to the two handles.

      Whenever Justin was nearby, he had to assist the nurses with their work. When doing so, the boy usually proved acting far more sensitive than the therapists.

      Apparently, time was always too tight so they couldn’t wait until Gerd had gotten into his wheelchair himself, with his feet properly placed on the rests and ready to go. Therefore, once I got to witness as one of them forcefully turned the wheelchair, tipped and pulled it backward when Gerd couldn’t put up his feet right away! I can still see the panic on his face as he suddenly was being jerked down and back and I am convinced that the shock alone nullified the benefit of that therapy session.

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