A patient's rich life and a heavy secret

Nurse talking to a patient. (Courtesy/iStock) As I walk up and down the hospital corridors attending to the sick, I get to be friends with the pulse of the hospital; nurses. Their stories of hilarity, hope, faith, despair, death or healing give me incredible insights into the human spirit. They tell the tale of a patient, who walked into the hospital for tests to get to the bottom of why he was getting dizzy; he just couldn't shake off a lethargy that had snuck up on his otherwise robust life. The patient was now a resident in the hospital's VIP wing, barely clinging to life. John was terminal. All they were doing was keeping him comfortable. But a determined man he was; lucid, with a pleasant word for all. He was in no hurry to exit Earth. He told them about his rags-to-riches story on good days when he felt strong. Born upcountry, he went to local schools for his primary education, national schools for high school and the University of Nairobi for his first degree. Hand-me-down clothes were the norm, and he, being the third boy of six, got 'true' hand-me-downs. Life was no harder in their home than it was at the neighbors. He had strict Christian parents with godly expectations of their children. The elements aligned in John's favor after college. Good job, he had his first fully paid-up house by 30, married to a gorgeous woman by 32, three children by 40. His business, when it started ran like a well-oiled machine. He did well. His business did better. He was a favourite guest of honour at his church fundraisers, mentor and advisor on projects in the city and back home in the village. The villagers were very proud of their son who was doing well in the city and never forgot them. But John was restless, a restlessness that had been picked up on by his wife, yet she couldn't quite place it. He remained generous to her and the children, holidays, expensive toys and gadgets were never out of place in their home. But sometimes, John wasn't present. His wife became suspicious that another woman was taking her John away. She cried to her friends and even got an investigator who turned up nothing. She hit the gym, upped her fashion sense, and became more aware. Still, sometimes John was not present. Time, she thought would heal the flustered feathers of her growing unease. John is now in room 12, of the VIP wing, winding down his life. Why then, won't John go home with 24-hour nursing staff to take care of him, to pass on surrounded by his loving family? A counselor and the palliative care team were sent to talk to him. As the inevitable checklist of unfinished business was unleashed, they soon got to the bottom of his restlessness. Have you put your affairs in order? Have you reconciled yourself with your God, your family, your friends? Is there anything else you need to do with the limited time remaining? A new John unraveled. Had he put his financial affairs in order? Oh yes, Mrs John and their children were going to be just fine. What about reconciliation with God, his family his friends? It turns out, John and his Maker were at peace. His family, however, was another story. He had lived a double life, he knew his wife had put private investigators on him, and knew she would not get what she was looking for, his secret was hidden in plain sight. He had caught her looking at him strangely, especially when some of his male friends were about. She never said anything, but John knew, just knew, that she knew some of his male relationships were not 'just' relationships. But these suspicions were never voiced and over time, a cold dark resentment grew and clutched at the very soul of their marriage. During a family meeting with the counselor, his wife stated her unwillingness to nurse him at home. He expected her to confront him with her suspicions. Was John brave enough to confront his wife with his truth? Would he tell his now adult children? Which friends should he tell? Her decision not to have him in their home was a relief to him. Later, he told the counselor his one regret was living his life in secret, and not giving his wife a chance to walk away and live her own life. John died in hospital. He never had the conversation with his wife. Was it the counselor's job to force out uncomfortable truths or let 'sleeping dogs lie?' "We each will die the same way we choose to live," was the counselor's take. A song from my internship days came to mind; "who's fooling who...."

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A patient's rich life and a heavy secret

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