Jake* and Becca* are celebrating their 37th year in marriage and 40th together today. It was pure serendipity that I got to learn of this. I was busy disconnecting Jake from the dialysis machine when he used his free hand to swat a flying moth from Becca’s sweater. This was some minutes past midnight. Becca has been Jake’s faithful assistant whenever he comes for dialysis. I call her the nurse who is not on our payroll. She takes vital observations for Jake and writes them on our charts. She holds his hand when we are inserting the dialysis needles. Moral support redefined.
Given their chirpy, jocular nature, I joked that I would report the swatting of the moth as workplace aggression. They broke out in a laugh that seemed to start and end with Jake holding Becca’s hand. “Thirty-seven years on Wednesday and you still treat me like a girl,” Becca mourned. “You are my girl, and every year is a mystery. How do I survive you?” Jake teased. They are in their seventies.
There was a palpable admiration between them. After congratulating them, I curiously asked what made them stay together. At the rate of divorce in the world especially in the First world countries, what has made them stay married? I wanted to know the secret.
Becca was brief in her reply. “I do not know ,” she started. “The years start and go and voila, another year together with this moody husband.” She declared amid a coquettish laugh. Jake being the louder of the two broke into a belly laughter as I took out one needle from his dialysis fistula. He grimaced and effectively masked it by deepening the laugh.
“My pal,” He begun. Jake calls every nurse his pal. I think it is a British thing. You are a pal or a dear or a lovely if not a honey to everyone. I had to grow into this at some point. Being geographically Scottish, I have taken it a notch higher by incorporating the Scottish variant or ‘honey’ which is ‘hen.’ Welcome to Scotland hen.
“We had been friends for a few years, twice I asked her to marry me, and she refused. The second time was when she was pregnant with our son. My pal, She refused my proposal. Can you believe that!” Jake exclaimed as Becca calmly applied pressure on the bleeding fistula post dialysis. I wanted more of this story.
“She married me after I had an almost fatal road accident. It took a tragedy for her to marry me. She is a stubborn woman” Jake paused.
“You are moody” Becca retorted to her husband who was now stroking her wrists with his free hand. “I wonder why Bec, I wonder why. Who wouldn’t be moody dealing with you?” Jake defended himself. I could not ask anything further. They held each other’s gaze. The pine trees outside whistled, the dialysis machines in the room hummed as the Spring moon kept watch. A magical serenade.
“My pal,” Jake addressed me without dropping his gaze from his wife Becca.
He then told me the following ever so calmly:
When I was diagnosed with high blood pressure and end stage kidney disease, I believed she would leave me. I wanted her to leave. I felt inadequate as a man. Here was my girl, mother of my children and the love of my life looking up to me as a provider; yet here was a disease I understood neither head nor tail of. I did not want her to be part of my misery. I wanted her to have a better life out there. I loved her enough to want her to be happy even if it meant being with someone else.
My pal, my Bec stayed. I have dialysed for the last fifteen years. Three times a week every week. I had a kidney transplant after five years of dialysis. It failed only a year later. I am not a suitable candidate for a transplant anymore. I have severally wanted to withdraw from dialysis and let nature take its course. Becca stopped me. I then realized that dialysis, staying alive, managing my blood pressure, I do them all for her.
My pal, she is the reason I am alive today. I know I will die someday but before then, I am enjoying the best time of my life with this beautiful woman. He then let his voice trail away. Like Cherrie blossoms in the gentle breeze of an Edinburgh sky, he let it flutter off.
I was mesmerized. I quickly finished cleaning the dialysis machine, mumbled an almost incoherent congratulations again and walked away. I had to retreat. These two lovebirds in their seventies were having a sacred moment. That right there was what the Holy Writ of any religion should have as an example of support and companionship.
Later, as I contemplated bout sharing this story, it dawned on me how much everyone needs someone. Someone to be there for them at their lowest. It is easy to find people to be with us when we are at the top of the mountain. What we may lack is people to stand with us and for us when we are in the belly of the beast. When we are badgered and drained by the vicissitudes of life.
Worse still, when one has a chronic illness and lack some form of social support, they easily give up. Jake is a testament to this. Mental health illness is not only the severe form that require institutionalization. Mental health illness manifests in small doses of hopelessness and despair. Little vignettes distress and despondency. A desire to take part in labelling life a glass full of nothingness.
Motivational quotes, positive thinking and affirmative pep talk have no effect on the physically and especially chronically, ill. Besides the mental torture of having to attend to daily treatment or even watch a special diet like in the case of kidney failure, other issues may fall through the cracks especially taking care of your family when you are the breadwinner or head of family. These issues have been compounded by a general feeling of anxious impatience with the Covid-19 pandemic. Everything seems to either have stalled or up in flames. It is a perfect recipe for dejection. A downward spiral for mental health illness.
For everyone dealing with a chronic illness, it is important to understand that feeling helpless is normal. It is a vulnerable moment, and it is alright to seek for help. Our role in society, family or friends is to be there and offer unconditional, rotational support to our loved ones. I say rotational because it is quite easy to burn out when you are the only one taking care of a chronically ill person.
As we continue raising awareness of Mental Health in this month of May, let us not just copy and paste cute social media challenges. Let us try to be less judging, less rude, less entitled. May we try to be more accommodating, listen more and for Goodness’ sake let us read more books. We need this. Switch off your social media notifications and read a book.
For married people, may Becca and Jake’s story inspire you to live better. To support one another longer. To invest in each other’s emotional health deeper. The is a memory that will remain embossed in the nooks and crannies of my heart.
*The names have been changed for confidentiality purposes. Details have been slightly altered to make it impossible for anyone to identify these people.
