A True Life Love Story

There are love stories with remarkable characters that have super powers, are foreign spies or star-crossed lovers who manage to find love regardless of the odds, but seldom do we hear the everyday love story of the couple next door. These are simple stories about your friends, your neighbors or the older couple down the street. The characters are unremarkable at first glance and the details of their life could be yours. Why would anyone write the story? Because in many cases, the true lives of everyday individuals are far more compelling than any character a writer could imagine. This is an unlikely love story with flawed characters, whose lives are neither remarkable nor mundane. They are the older couple down the street, the people you sit next to in a casino, the couple bickering in the grocery or the parents of your kid's best friends. It is the story of Nan and Nick Dembinski and the dedication of the team of medical professionals that helped give the story a happy ending.

It begins in a small town, not unlike one that Norman Rockwell would depict. She was the oldest of the daughters of a local merchant, and because of the 10-year age gap, often found herself responsible for taking care of the two younger girls when her mother went to work. She sometimes worked in her father's farm implement dealership after school. She was the caretaker, even from the beginning.

He was an only child. His mother doted on him and his father resented that. Unlike her frugal family, he received many material items from his parents. They owned a bakery in a nearby city, a metropolis compared to the small farming town where she lived. It was the fifties and religious background still mattered to many people. He was a Polish catholic and she was of mixed but primarily German heritage and Methodist. However, none of these things made them star-crossed lovers; they were simply small obstacles to the marriage that required a little extra time.

They spent rocky years together where everyone wondered if divorce might be the answer, wonderful years where people admired their affection and years like everyone where family came first. They raised four children and went through the tribulations of parenthood, had laughter that frequently involved plaster of Paris dog doo or whoopee cushions, buried their parents and became the family elders. Through that time, they were both the workers you could depend on when you needed help.

Occasionally they would bite each other with bitter barbs. Her favorite was to call him a senile old man. Regardless, you knew they loved each other. Nan would remark that Nick could fix anything. He would brag on her hard work helping others. They faced life together and were a team. They celebrated their 50^th wedding anniversary and all the sisters and spouses later went to Las Vegas as the final celebration. The diagnosis of colon cancer interrupted that happiness shortly after the trip.

His diabetes and general health made cancer treatments lethal. She took him to doctors' appointments, attempted to monitor his eating and gave him all the love and care he needed but he continued to succumb to the disease. Nan and Nick always loved going to the casino together and even though he tired easily, he accompanied her and if necessary, they spent the night if the trip proved to tiring for him. As he and she fought the disease together, it took a toll on her body too.

In early December of 2009, his condition deteriorated and doctors said he wouldn't live the week, but his determination to make it to Christmas proved too strong. Then, came the New Year and it seemed he skirted death, if only for a while. That's where the remarkable story begins.

The first week in January was difficult for all the family members. You could see his health failing from day to day. Nan cared for him through the clock but on the morning of January 8^th, that all stopped. She felt different. Sure, after years of smoking, everyone occasionally has some difficulty catching their breath, but this was more than just shortness of breath. She ignored it for a moment and attempted to begin her caretaking duties but breathing became far more difficult. She could ignore it no longer and called her daughter for help.

Both her daughter Tracy and the ambulance arrived at about the same time. Nan's difficulty breathing came from a coronary problem that the paramedics easily recognized. Doctors confirmed that diagnosis upon arrival to the hospital. Hours of tests showed that an aneurysm affected large section of the aorta and the damage caused the heart valve to leak. They told her she needed immediate surgery and that it was amazing she didn't succumb to the damage months earlier. She told them she had to take care of her husband.

Twenty-four hours passed and the doctors finally convinced her that surgery was the answer, except, it was not without risk. She had put aside her personal health care for a long time. Her frame close to 90 pounds from stress and COPD would inhibit her recovery. However, it was the only way to get her back on her feet and save her life.

The children and Hospice took over the responsibilities of caring for Nick. Their lives changed from work and children to cleaning and feeding their dying father and sitting by the bed of their critically ill mother. Even though he was growing weaker and transporting him became more difficult, the children managed to take their father to see his wife of over 50 years, twice. The second time was difficult and they knew another would be impossible.

The first surgery seemed to go well even though there was massive damage, it seemed as though she would make it home to be with her husband before he died. That was all she asked, that was her purpose.

Life plays cruel jokes sometimes, teasing us with a light at the end of the tunnel, only to find it was the headlamps of a train. This time it was no different. Nan kept telling others that she had difficulty breathing. A doctor checked her and said it was normal. Two days passed and she finally called her daughter from the cardiac recovery area. She was distraught to say the least, panicked was more the word. "Help me...Help me...Please, I can't breath," was her message.

Immediately the daughter responded and called the hospital. Finally, someone listened. Fluid filled her lungs and again, she went into surgery a second time. There was to be another surgery for a tracheotomy so they could attach a respirator. It was to prevent her from aspirating her food but it also meant she no longer could speak. Her condition improved and warranted a move to Rivercrest Specialty Hospital for the balance of her recovery.

Nick's health was declining rapidly. The children were aware that they're mother might not be released in time to be with their father. They could no longer transport him by car to see her and the respirator prevented her from talking on the phone to him. When he spoke, he asked when she was coming home. She mouthed and wrote questions about his health. The two were only concerned for each other.

Nick quit eating and Ruth, the hospice worker told the family it wouldn't be long before his life ended. Nan asked continuously when she could leave to be with her husband and restless nights impeded her recovery. The hospital staff knew that it would take time before she would have the respirator permanently removed and even longer, before she'd go home. It seemed fate had not intended the two to have a final good-bye.

The family approached the social worker at the hospital, Sara, and hoped there was some way to get the two together. Sara followed the case closely and knew the background. She began immediately by contacting Ruth from hospice and the staff at Rivercrest. Time was at an essence as the frail body of Nick clung precariously to life.

In less than 24 hours, Sarah pulled the team together. They had a time, date and ambulance ready to take Nick to his wife's side. It was Friday, February 5^th at 3:00.

Hospice and the children made certain that Nick was ready for the visit. The hospital staff wanted it special and took the extra time to give Nan a manicure, apply make-up, make certain her hair looked just right and even helped one of the daughters decorate the room with large Valentine hearts.

Everyone on the staff was involved. As the time approached, Nan heard the buzz from the nurses in the hall, "He's coming." "He's on his way." The ambulance had arrived with the family closely behind. The couple was having one last date night in the most unlikely of places.

When he arrived, she held his hand as she had done for many years. His disease-racked body pained him so; they wondered if he understood what was happening. The nurses removed the respirator temporarily connected at the tracheotomy, which allowed Nan to say, "I love you," and kissed him before they reconnected the tube. A tear fell from his eyes and they knew he understood.

Nan asked all family members to say good-bye to their father. She later mouthed to the nurse after everyone left, he would die that night. She knew it. Years of love, squabbling and simply time together give the connection that no illness can break. It took a lot of extra effort from all the medical staff at Rivercrest Medical Hospital, hospice and the social worker to make this happen but it made a huge difference to everyone involved. With in a few hours of arriving home, Nick passed. The family knew it was almost time for their mother to sleep and she need the healing rest, so they chose to tell her in the morning. However, again, something changed their plans.

After the funeral home came to pick up the body of their father, one of the daughters received a strange phone call. No one spoke. There was simply a tapping. She said hello again but there was a tapping, almost a Morse code type of message and urgency in the tapping made at the other end.

"Mom, is that you?"

She paused and heard a few taps.

"If that's you, hang up the phone and let me call the nurses."

The familiar click at the other end indicated it was indeed her mother calling.

The nurses went to her side. She mouthed, "He died." Again, the connection that only love and years of being together can create gave her the information before anyone spoke the words.

While death is always a sad time because of the loss of a loved one, it also is often filled with regrets for the things we wanted to say but didn't. The staff at Rivercrest Specialty Hospital and caretakers, including the children and hospice, gave this couple one last moment together and the peace that you receive when you get to say "I love you" one last time.