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Blogs by Bo Drury
The Best Trip 8/21/2007 10:03:54 AM
the trip we planned but never took The Best Trip
Several years ago Cleave and I bought a travel home expecting to tour the country. We had high hopes. It was very exciting although it was a used older model. It was very plush inside, so much so that I made the remark it looked like a traveling whorehouse with its crushed burgundy interior and mood lighting. It didn’t take these two Texas hill-billy’s long to change it up and make it homey with fishing poles and grandchildren photos posted around. We dyked it out and prepared for our first outing, an eight hour round trip to see my Mom and do a little genealogy research. Mother insisted we stay in the house so we didn’t get to try out our new sleeping quarters this time. But we did have our morning coffee sitting around our little table in the motor home. It was a new adventure. Cleave had just recovered from open-heart surgery and could not seem to get his strength back but it didn’t keep us from enjoying our little bit of heaven right in our own back yard as we would sit in the little booth with our travel brochures and dream of far away places, mapping out our route and deciding which way to go first. We had to make a quick trip to Amarillo for Cleave to have a follow-up exam after his surgery. We debated taking the motor-home but opted for going in the car and just making a quick trip up and back in a day. They did a stress test, drew blood and sent us on our way. We detoured by some kinfolks in the Panhandle and drove in home around 10 in the evening. One of our boys was waiting for us with a message from the hospital in Amarillo. I made the call and was told to return immediately for Cleave to go into the hospital. I thought they had lost their mind. It was a four hour trip. Thinking they were overreacting I told them we would be back the next day. The concern was over his bloodwork which I thought was surely someone’s boo-boo. Having been given our instructions for admitting we entered the hospital around noon the next day and rode the elevator to the third floor and walked to the desk. When I told them who we were they jumped to attention, grabbed a wheel chair and rushed Cleave down the hall to a private room. I still thought they were making a terrible mistake and were going to be red faced when they realized it. They told him to get in the bed. I asked if he could have coffee. Yes, and someone would be in soon to talk to us. I went to the coffee shop and when I returned there is a big red sign on the door “NO ADMITTANCE” AND A CART IN FRONT OF THE DOOR TO STOP ME. I STAND THERE THINKING I AM ON THE WRONG FLOOR.A nurse approaches me and asked who I was, here I am standing there with two cups of hot coffee and at a complete loss. “What is happening?” I asked. You can go in but you have to wear this mask. I started crying…”What is going on, what is wrong with him?” Now I am a pretty cool and calm person but this was totally unnerving. My reaction was not good. Coffee forgotten I donned the mask and rushed in to find Cleave as big eyed and confused as I was. What is happening to us, I asked. We had to wait for the doctor to show up to tell us. My first thought had been he had some awful contagious disease but that was not the case, he had no immune system. They were protecting him from me as well as everyone and everything he came in contact with. His blood was so thin that had he been bruised or injured he would have bleed to death. It was explained he had the forerunner of leukemia, Myelo-dysplasia. The nurses all acted as though he was at deaths door. After several weeks in the hospital we went home to contact a local doctor and follow through with treatment which consisted of transfusions once a week and daily medication. There was nothing could be done to stop the progress of the leukemia and he was told he probably had two years to live. Not a couple to give up or give in we went home and started researching alternative cures. We heard of some people having successful treatment with Ozone, so we purchased an ozone machine and tried that. Then we went to Houston and tried Ozone Celation treatments with a doctor down there. A process where the blood is circulated and treated by ozone rays as it passes through a machine. Cleave grew weaker as time passed. After much deliberation and discussion Cleave decided to go to Houston and have experimental treatments at MD Anderson Hospital in Houston. We were told it was a long shot. We went to our room to talk about it and make a final decision. I wanted to go home and spend what quality time we could together, Cleave wanted to take the chance there. It was his call. It meant we would have no physical contact for thirty days. A glass wall would separate us. He would be in total isolation from physical contact. They started the treatment. It made him very sick. I was there from early morning until late in the evening when I would ride the shuttle bus to my apartment to sleep, report to the family and rush back to be there for him. A volunteer group came by once a day and brought sandwiches, books, puzzles, and needle-craft to the family of the patients. Church’s provided places for people to stay if they needed help. Support groups were formed, it was a very caring place. We all knew the chances were slim for success. Several were receiving bone marrow transplants. Because of cleaves age and the extent of his illness he was not a candidate. That was a hard thing to accept. He lost weight and lost his hair. Then we were told his blood work was improving. There was hope after all. We started talking again about the trip we would take when he was well. At this time we were still talking on the phone with a glass wall between us. We still have a long way to go. One morning when I got there his room was empty and his bed was made. My heart stopped beating for an instant as I looked upon that empty room. I felt the panic swell and my throat had grown tight when I heard a familiar voice from behind me. I turned and there he was, tall and thin but with that beautiful smile walking slowly toward me. I can never tell you the joy I felt. The Leukemia was arrested and they were going to allow us to go home on leave for a week. It was an eight hour drive but we stopped at my Mom’s half way and spent the night and on home the next day. Our dog Lady and cat Sassy were lying in the driveway when we pulled up. It was a grand homecoming. All the kids came out after he got settled in and it was a good week, our prayers had been answered. He had a place they called a port where his medicine and transfusions were entered into his body. Each day this had to be cleaned and dressed. We still had several months to go before he would be released. We drove back to Houston and stayed in the apartment but spent most of everyday at the hospital having transfusions, etc. sometimes it was two or three in the morning before we would go back to our rooms. I pushed him everywhere in a wheelchair. Then he suffered a setback, he developed an infection in the port. He had knots rise all over his body, they put him back in the hospital and did a biopsy on the knots, it was a staph infection. His lungs began to fill with blood and he was on oxygen. The family all came and donated platelets for him. One by one the boys and their families all came to see him. It was Thanksgiving. Then Christmas was fast approaching. I got a small tree and decorated thinking he might get to come to the house for Christmas. Then I got pneumonia. The doctor was afraid I might have picked up the staph infection from Cleave. On the 12 of December Cleave fell from his bed. After removing him from his oxygen to go to x-ray they were never able to feed him enough again and had to put him on the breathing machine. We cried together before they hooked him up, I think we both knew we were saying goodbye. Cleave died on December the 13 1997. Some folks might say we never got to make that trip in our little motor home but our whole life together was a trip, a wonderful 39 years of love and experiences. The best trip of my life, our life together.
