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I met my best friend Alison the second day of our freshman year in college. I had been raised in West Virginia by a decidedly separatist family and had never really known a black person before I met her.
We became fast and close friends. When we met her mother had just died and the following summer, her father passed away. The next summer, just as we began our junior year, my mother died just after she turned 40.
I never really thought much about it but I have always believed that when God closes a door, He opens a window....and that window for me, was Alison. I realized we had met practically 3 years to the day before my mother died. I knew God had given me Alison as a friend to help me through such a terrible loss.
We have been through more together than most families I think. One thing I can say honestly is we have never let race become an issue between us.
We have never thought any differently than that we are twin sisters of different mothers!
When I had my son, Evan, there was no other choice than Alison for his godmother. He loves her as he would a second mother. I don't think anyone could be better with him.
A long time ago, with the sadness and then isolation for various reasons, from our respective families we grew very aware that God had let us choose our family. I, at least, know that I wouldn't be the person I am today without Alison always cheering me on and being behind me all the way.
She truly is the wind beneath my wings.
On 31 March 1998, Alison was in the hospital suffering from some unknown ailment. It had presented as respiratory failure but they just couldn't figure out what was causing it and concluded it was a blood virus...whatever that is. That afternoon, they decided to do a trans-esophageal echocardiogram. I was in the middle of taking a huge test in one of my engineering classes and so we agreed I would stay home and work and she would call me when the test was over. I decided to lie down after a while and took a short nap....then the phone rang. The nurse on the other end explained that the echo had shown that Alison's aorta was torn and she was being lifeflighted immediately to a Pittsburgh hospital and that I had to leave as quickly as possible to get there.
Since neither of us has parents or brothers or sisters, we basically are our only family. The fact that I am white and she is black raised more than a few eyebrows when I charged into the ICU and announced I was her sister. The staff was great and they didn't bat an eye. They had taken Alison to surgery just moments before I arrived...nearly 5pm that afternoon. The nurse who had held her hand before she went in and calmed her hysteria told me they thought that a 5 inch section of her aorta as it entered her heart had torn. She expected that they would bypass that portion and the surgery would take about 4 hours. I settled in and waited.
At 9:30 we still had no word and I was starting to panic. The nurse, her name was Lynne, came out and told me "no news is good news" although by that time, anything would have helped. I waited until 11:00 and still, nothing. Lynne had explained that the floor would be called 30 minutes prior to the completion of the surgery to get a bed prepared and by this time, 6 hours after they had begun, there was still no call.
I couldn't help myself and the panic washed over me and I became hysterical. I couldn't imagine losing her...after 17 years together through everything....what would life be like without her? I mean, I knew I would go on...I have a 5 year old son! But the thought of not having my best friend, my sister there with me as we grew old was too terrifying for words. Lynne and another nurse came to the waiting room and comforted me.
Her doctor, Dr. James McGovern, is one of the top cardiologists in the country. She lucked out when she was flown in that he was on duty. The fact is - he saved her life.
He came out at 11:30 or so and looked like he was ready to just drop over. As we talked, he couldn't help but yawn. He explained that Alison had nearly died. When he opened her up and had a look, he discovered what was originally thought to be a 5 inch tear was actually 18 INCHES in length. He described it to me as "as far as [he] could see." He took a vein from her leg and transplanted it as well as fashioning a new aortic valve from human tissue and performing a single bypass to improve her heart's function. I asked what had caused this and he told me it was 100% because of her blood pressure.
Now, let me explain. Alison's blood pressure has been described as "borderline" since our senior year in high school which would have been 1984-1985. (She called me tonight to make sure I was very clear on when this was diagnosed PRECISELY as precision is extremely important to her as it is to all anal retentives who are in denial.) I know. I have been to most of her doctor appointments...and at every one she was told her pressure was "borderline" and she was given medication but never was it explained to her how very serious that is. "Borderline" sounds like some days its great and some days its not. But thats not what it means and in fact, its probably more dangerous to have borderline high blood pressure than to be on the extreme continuum either way. Because of this wishy washy description, Alison was never particularly religious about taking her medication. They just never really explained that her heart would explode one day if she wasn't.
Dr. McGovern told me that the one single thing she must become religious about is, indeed, her blood pressure. He said it was the single largest factor contributing to her aorta exploding. Not her weight, not her eating habits (other than sodium) and not her heart. It all had to do with blood pressure.
Finally, around midnight they brought her back to ICU. I don't think I was really prepared for it but I was so grateful that she was alive. I went back and I tried as hard as I could to be stoic. But seeing her, unconcious and with a respirator tube taped to her upper lip...I couldn't contain my emotions and I started to cry.
Her nurse, Scott, explained that she was in a medically induced coma. She had been clinically dead, her body temperature taken to 60 degrees Farenheit so the surgery could be performed. When I saw her, she was covered with a warming blanket and air was being pumped into her chest so she could breathe. She had a tube coming from her jugglar veing and machines everywhere. Her condition was critical.
I broke down. I couldn't stop crying. I just never expected at 35 years of age, either of us would be dealing with this. I held her hand and just kept rubbing it. The nurses were fantastic - they moved in and out of the room allowing me time with her. I thought I felt her hand squeezing mine but since she was in a coma, I decided it had to be reflexes. Finally, I leaned over and, still sobbing, I whispered into her ear "I am here Alison and I am not leaving you....I won't leave you alone."
Suddenly, her eyes FLEW open. She was terrified and I tried to tell her a little about what had happened, where she was. She couldn't speak because of the respirator and finally, after about 10 minutes, she fell back to sleep. Her nurse was amazed since she was medicated so she wouldn't wake up until the next day. Now I tell her it was my whispering into her ear which woke her up and I tell her "I brought you back into this world, and I can take you out!"
That was kind of her turning point. The next morning we were writing one another notes and speaking in sign language. By the next day the respirator was out and that afternoon she was moved to step down! I don't think I have ever been happier.
Its been a long hard road for her since then. She was in the hospital for a little more than a week and then came to stay with me. I don't think I have ever been angrier with her in my life than when she was rehabilitating - we would fight bitterly over her exercising, her food, everything. I hope someday she realizes I wouldn't have been so angry with her if I didn't love her so much.
She is halfway through her rehab now and has gone back to work full time. She is driving and even joined the YMCA with me so we can swim in the evenings after work. There are still hard days...like a month after her surgery when she developed a blood clot in her thigh and had to be re-hospitalized for a week. Or when going to rehab at 8am seems like the most unbearable thing in her life. But overall she has done so well and I am thankful for the miracle I got that night in the ICU when she woke to my voice and I got my best friend back.
The one memory I shall always have is from the ICU. She would doze off and on...and the staff would allow me to stay with her for hours on end, well past the 30 minute limit. After she fell asleep I would sit by the bed and put my arms on the rail and lay down my head to rest until she woke up again. I will never forget the day I woke up to her stroking my hair, looking at me with tears in HER eyes and telling ME it would be okay.
I know we were brought into one another's lives for a reason - and I thank the Powers above for the miracle they handed me when they saved her and gave her back. I truly cannot imagine my life without her in it and I am so glad I don't have to.
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