Falling, in love
Thursday 5th July 2018
I like to believe she died in my arms. I don’t know whether that’s the case, medically. But I like to think her last conscious memory was of me holding her, caring for her, as she fell. I want that to be true.
It all happened so quickly. We’d been to the cardiologist that afternoon and while he admitted things didn’t look quite right, he gave us confidence that the medication was doing its job, and that another procedure on Suse’s heart could be scheduled to get to the bottom of the issue. This was a procedure she’d undergone three years earlier with good success. So we left the clinic at 5pm in good spirits.
After picking our kids up from our friend’s place, we returned home. The younger kids went off to bed in due course, but Oli, being on school holidays, stayed up a while longer. Feeling relaxed by the news from the Cardiologist, Suse and I retired to the couch for an easy night of watching television. At about 9pm, I was in my absolute happy place: my wife in my arms, a beer at my feet, with football on the television. I could not have known then that that would be the last time we’d sit down together.
Oli went off to bed and I went across to the computer to watch some of the surfing final (my fantasy team was doing well). Suse was still on the lounge watching a documentary, but then she called out to me to say she was going to bed soon. Though I was keen to watch a bit of surfing, I said I’d come up with her. It was at that point that she got up off the couch, and walked over to me to give me a kiss. She made it to within a metre of where I was sitting when I heard her simply say:
“I don’t feel right…”
They would be her last words.
I turned in my seat, only to see the light quickly recede from her precious eyes. I leapt up as she collapsed, and I caught her as she fell. Life was rapidly escaping from her body, though I didn’t know that just then.
What followed was a blur of surreal panic on my part.
I cried out for her to stay with me. It felt like I was pleading with her very soul, as though I had some sort of command over it. Initially, I thought it may have just been low blood pressure, and that lying her down would bring her back around. It soon became evident that that was not the case.
Oli then appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He’d not yet fallen asleep and he’d heard me yell. The scene before him was not one any 13-year-old boy should have to witness: his mother lying on the kitchen tiles, lifeless; his father in a scrambling panic, utterly helpless. He took in the gravity of the situation immediately. We knew we had to call an ambulance so I reached for my phone. Out of batteries. I reached for Susie’s phone. Out of batteries. Unbelievable. I panicked. I ran outside into the street and cried out desperately to whoever might listen:
“Help me! Please help me! My wife has collapsed and I need an ambulance”
I can’t imagine what it must have been like for our neighbours to hear that. I wasn’t confident that anyone would respond, but to my surprise, and relief, someone did.
“Where are you?”, came the cry from the unit block over the road from our house.
I screamed out our address and pleaded again for them to call an ambulance with as much clarity as I could muster.
