The Wake-Up Call

On November 23, just five days before her youngest daughter’s eighth birthday, Karen had died. By definition, her heart had stopped for three minutes after she had suffered a heart attack, brought on by a blockage in one of her main arteries. More than likely as a result of her high cholesterol, an unwanted hereditary risk factor she had been in denial about since diagnosis two years earlier.

She remembered waking up in the unfamiliar hospital room, with the taste and smell of plastic in her throat and nose from the sterile instruments that had helped her breathe for two days. It was a relief to have them removed, to be able to take a breath without obstruction and to have their smells replaced by the recognizable hospital odors of disinfectant, latex and antibacterial soap.

Getting over the physical discomfort was easy compared to the realization and acceptance that she had experienced a life-altering event that could have ended so differently – if not in death, then serious impairment if efforts to resuscitate her had taken any longer. She had no recollection of the moments leading up to her near-death or anything thereafter until she had woken up in her hospital room. She took it as a reassuring sign that she could recall no bright light, no angel and no deceased relatives reaching out to her. It hadn’t been her time and she was determined to do anything in her power to ensure that it wouldn’t be for a long time to come.

Karen couldn't imagine what her demise would have done to her three young children – her sixteen-year-old son, who still treasured his mom's hugs but would adamantly deny that they even occurred when with his friends; her ten-year-old daughter who might as well have been a teenager, with her knowledge of everything fashionable courtesy her mom’s wardrobe, makeup case and YouTube tutorials; and her baby girl, who was only considered such by her and the start of whose ninth year, she had almost missed. They had eventually celebrated it without complaint despite the unsuitable, clinical accommodation, happy to commemorate a joyous milestone instead of what could have been the alternative.

The end of her hospital stay marked the beginning of a long recovery process. Her first night home, the girls had an extended bedtime routine, as she prolonged every minute, she lingered a little longer at her son’s door as she said good night and she held her husband tighter than she remembered. The fact that she could feel the warmth of his body next to hers and hear what she once thought was his annoying rhythmic snoring that was now music to her ears, were reminders that she had been given a second chance. She was happy to return to her home and her life but knew that she would never consider it as routine anymore.

“Don’t forget, it’s the Barbie with the horse, not the one with the car.” Stated her older daughter as she read from her Christmas list that she had carefully placed on the refrigerator with the Flamingo magnet they had bought on their last family vacation to Florida. Before she could continue, her younger sister chimed in with a slightly elevated voice to ensure she would be heard, “And my Enchantimal has to be the fox, not the rabbit.”

“I was talking first!” yelled the older of the two. And so the familiar squabble began. It was a regular thing and could be on any topic, at any time and usually drove Karen crazy because of how ridiculously unimportant they usually were. But their argument was short-lived with the entrance of her husband who made it clear that if they continued, they would be opening empty boxes on Christmas morning. The possibility was enough to quiet them down, as they weren’t quite sure if he was serious or not. Karen smiled as she continued to make sandwiches for their school lunches. Funny the things she appreciated now.

Her son stopped to give her a tight hug, as they made their way out the front door to her husband’s truck. A gesture he shared more often and freely, now. “Have a great day, Mom.” 

"Thanks, hon. You too.” She replied as she waved goodbye and closed the door, immediately noting the contrast of the abrupt silence to what had occurred earlier. She decided to use the time to finalize her Christmas to-do list. She carefully removed the children’s lists from the refrigerator door, took out her recipe folder from the cupboard overhead and sat at the kitchen island with her tablet as she planned her Christmas menu and finalized the gifts she would purchase for the children, her siblings and her in-laws.

She was determined to make this Christmas extra special as she no longer took anything for granted. She reminisced on the past year and thought about how it had started and how different it would be ending due to her wake-up call. She had gone from denial to informed when it came to her health and lifestyle habits and from generally irritated to more appreciative. She had started off her year with so many promises to herself, none of which she had kept – to exercise more, to eat healthier, to work less, spend more time with the kids and her husband, to take an extra vacation, to do more self-care – the spa, dinner and a movie, take the time to read a book at the coffee shop or simply just read more. Now, she sat and took the time to create one more list, adding all the items, she had once promised herself, along with a few more to the Resolutions app she had found. Instinctively, she knew that this time, she would start them all before the year was even over and keep them throughout the new year.