That title sounds like a philosophy course but perhaps I’m feeling philosophical because I had dinner tonight with Michael, who’s writing a paper right now on John Locke.
At any rate, “knowing and not knowing ” pretty much sums up my life right now.
It struck me today that each time I walk up the 200-year old steps of the hospital, and thread my way through its corridors to see Mary Elizabeth – twice a day – I don’t know what condition she’ll be in when I get there. She could be sitting up in a chair, active and engaged like yesterday, or flat on her back, lost to the world, like a few days ago. I just don’t know and – short of bothering the nurses by calling ahead – I have to wait until I step up to the doors of the ward, look through the little window towards bed number 7, and see Mary Elizabeth. Then I know. But still in a larger sense, I don’t know how fast she’ll recover – or when the infection will be cleared up in her brain, or when we’ll be coming back to New York. Once back, I don’t know how long she’ll have to be in rehab, or when she’ll come home, or when she’ll go back to work. Those are a lot of things not to know.
But there are lot of things I know. I know that Mary Elizabeth has me, and I have her. I know that we have a caring and concerned group of friends, family and colleagues. I know we have the faith, hope and patience to wait for an outcome that I know will be what it should be – Mary Elizabeth back to her old self – the wife, mother, daughter, friend and colleague who brings us all love, joy and friendship every day. I know that day is coming. I don’t know when, but I know it’s coming.
Anyway, today in London it’s cold, windy and snowy – a perfect day to stay inside and be mellow, which is pretty much the way Mary Elizabeth spent her Saturday. The nurses were a little concerned this morning when they weren’t able to rouse her. When she finally opened her eyes and smiled, she mouthed the words, “I was sleepy” in response to the nurse’s questions. She was sleepy most of the day – alert and engaged – but sleepy and quiet. I brought her glasses in and she enjoyed being able to see more clearly – albeit with one eye so far – but a lift nonetheless. I also enjoyed seeing her in her glasses – she looked more familiar and more functional. We spoke for a while about the kids and what they’re up to. Charlotte is performing tomorrow in the All-County Orchestra and we’re pretty excited about that. I also read her some emails from friends and that engaged her for a while. But as our visits wore on, she became sleepy and drifted off – but it was that kind of a day. Heck, I even started nodding for a while!
She also expressed a keen desire to speak. I think – I know – that she finds it frustrating that she can’t talk yet. So we’re very much looking forward to the coming week to see how much progress she makes, and if she’s even able to have the tracheostomy tube out altogether. We’ll see.
I’ll be ringing tomorrow morning at St. Dunstan’s Stepney, and then a little later at Southwark Cathedral – which I’m pretty psyched about. And then it’s back to the hospital to see what Mary Elizabeth is up to then.
Moved in Sundry Places 
Hi Scott & Mary Elizabeth
I think you should concentrate on the knowing. How wonderful to know that you have each other, faith, love, patience and a caring circle of family & friends. God is watching over the unknowing. He will bring you both the strength and comfort that you will need for the days ahead. Each day is an adventure..some good ,some not so good. Just prepare yourself for whatever the day brings and know how blessed you are to have each other.
Our thoughts and prayers are with you each day.
God Bless,
Bob & Carol
This is a distilled, essential existential experience Scott, so it’s reasonable to get philosophical about it.
You’re doing a fantastic job. And so is ME, and so are your family and friends. What a thing to be able to contemplate and sift.
Go forth and RING!
xo
I love the philosophical Scott.
We are all so engaged in thinking only wonderful thoughts for your family and ME in particular. It is a joyous thing to hear all the wonderful news (and even the set backs) and all the unknowable future that you are bound to ponder.
We are just so grateful for your willingness to share the ride.
love to all,
L
Dear Scott,
Your love and attitude are amazing. Everyday has brought something different. You are doing a great job coping and with personality as well. We are all waiting and hoping!! Having put her glasses on is great. It really does help people function and respond better. I have been wearing glasses since she and I were in kindergarten at AMP together and until I have my “eyes” in the morning, life is not easy. Keep up the good work. We are praying every day.
Patty Pugliese
Hi, Mary Elizabeth and Scott – I missed reading about Mary Elizabeth’s progress yesterday, but still thought about you both at the end of the day.
I was thinking that Mary Elizabeth should know how many people there are rooting for her and just how many people’s lives, old and young, she has touched.
I had the pleasure of attending my daughter’s Author’s Party in school yesterday. I was lucky enough to hear Michael Sisson’s beautifully told and illustrated story about a very bad day he had.
He described how he was at a party and he hit his head in a pool. He was hurt and was bleeding, but he remembered how he “felt so safe”, because Mary Elizabeth was there. She told him that she was his mom while his real mom was not there. Michael wrote about how lovingly Mary Elizabeth took care of him until he was with his real mom.
Just thought you would both like to hear how much you are cared about by the big and the small here at home. We are all thrilled to see how far you have come and can’t wait to see you home again soon! Keep up the good work ~ Jeanne Marie
Dear Scott,
We’ll be thinking about you ringing the bells as our church bell rings tomorrow to call us to worship. (Not exactly in the same league!) We’ll say some extra prayers for ME’s infection to clear and your continued forbearance. We all feel like we’re right there with you because of your beautiful writing. Keep up the fabulous job!
Love, the Fixes
OMG, as the young ones say. 😉 I’m off the internet for a few days and Mary Elizabeth makes great strides! The not knowing is tough — but really, what do we know for sure in life? You just take it one day at a time.
I’m very excited by the idea that she will be talking soon. I just feel her recovery will be more rapid once she can express herself and engage more fully. But mostly I’m amazed at how the physios get her up and around and the occupods occupy her. It’s amazing that it’s just a little more than a month since the stroke and she’s come so far.
So glad to hear your tales of bell-ringing – it’s good to have something to do for yourself. I wish I was there to hear you.
All my love to you and M.E. I think of you both every day.
K
This all sounds good Scott and soon we all hope Mary Elizabeth will have graduated to the point where you can make more firm decisions in the coming weeks. You have come a very long way with amazing stamina and keep up the good work -BOTH of you! b
Scott,
Staying in the moment is something I haven’t been able to master yet but focusing on the day at hand and living in a constant state of gratitude is what I try to do when my mind keeps wondering about the future. I know it is hard but you are a man of faith and remember God makes all things work for good, even if it’s hard to see the up side now, I promise there is a positive outcome.
Emma
Scott,
Thank you again for providing this blog for those of us you also love Mary Elizabeth. I am so pleased to hear of her progress. Take good care of both you and give Mary Elizabeth a hug for me. Tell her I want to give her the hug myself soon!
Love,
Anne