A DETERMINED MAN - PART II

Gordon was transferred to Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital in Boston only three days after his stroke. Every morning, for the next six weeks, he spent with a myriad of physical, occupational and speech therapists. I spent my mornings trying to figure out how we would cope when Gordon came home. Afternoons we spent together.

Before spending the afternoon with Gordon, however, I usually had lunch in Spaulding’s cafeteria. Likewise, on my way home, I usually stopped at Whole Foods to pick up my supper. I had neither desire, nor energy to cook for myself. Everything within me was focused on Gordon.

From his first day at Spaulding, Gordon was really focused on regaining his speech. Every afternoon he practiced by reading lists of words aloud to himself over and over and over again. But all that practice paid off. I’ll never forget the day he abandoned the word lists and read the New York Times aloud to me instead.   

Gordon applied that same determination to the task of regaining the use of his right leg. Every afternoon he also did leg strengthening exercises by himself over and over and over again. As a result, within six weeks, he was walking, albeit with the aid of a four-point cane and a brace.

Unfortunately, his determination notwithstanding, Gordon never regained any functional use of his right arm or his right hand. Amazingly, however, he never complained. Instead, he just used that same determination to teach himself how to type and sign his name with his left hand only. 

For most of his adult life, Gordon’s determination to solve the riddles of COPD and Alpha-1 had left little time for family, friends, and other activities. Now, he had all the time in the world and, as soon as he was able, he told me, he was going to put it to good use. He was reinventing himself.

Both Gordon and I loved to travel and one year after his stroke we took our first big trip; a scenic cruise to Alaska. The following winter, we flew to Coronado Island, California, where we spent two glorious months in a condominium directly overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Essentially, from the summer of 2004 to the summer of 2006, we took advantage of almost every opportunity that we had to travel.

Early in the summer of 2006, however, our lives were upended again when Gordon was diagnosed with aggressive B-Cell lymphoma. He immediately had Chemotherapy that killed the lymphoma. But, as a result, he also spent two long weeks in ICU, followed by almost two years of rehabilitation and physical therapy. And this time, despite his best efforts, Gordon would never walk again.

Thankfully, in June 2006, we had just moved to Glenmeadow, a retirement community in western MA. Not only is Glenmeadow handicapped accessible, but also its handicapped vans will take you anywhere you want to go. So Gordon got himself a motorized wheelchair and like my good friend Rita, he just “picked himself up, dusted himself off, and kept going.”

Together Gordon and I went to symphony; we went to art museums; we went out to dinner with friends. We read books, watched movies, and, of course, faithfully read the New York Times. We entertained our children and our grandchildren. We also hosted special events for our extended families. And every year our entire blended family celebrated Passover together, a tradition we have pledged to continue in honor of Gordon.

When Gordon died on June 8, 2013, his son Barry noted that it had been almost ten years to the day since he had his stroke. Never once, during those ten years, did I ever hear him complain about his limitations. Instead, every day he reminded me that life, especially the life that we had together, was far better than the alternative.

Yes, the Gordon I knew was a determined man. He was determined to live life to the fullest, no matter the obstacles, for as long as he absolutely could. Gordon was both my husband and my mentor and I miss him terribly.