Where I End by Katherine Elizabeth Clark

Where I End by Katherine Elizabeth Clark

Author:Katherine Elizabeth Clark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Moody Publishers
Published: 2018-03-17T04:00:00+00:00


I awoke on William’s eighth birthday—his first since my injury—with a pounding headache still struggling to breathe. Yet I did not want to rob my boy of this once-a-year celebratory joy. William chose the movie Where the Wild Things Are to see with his visiting aunt and uncle. When we’d heard Maurice Sendak’s story was coming to life on the big screen, we were curiously excited. This childhood favorite had been read so many times in our home, I can still today recite much of it by heart. I put on a cheerful face and braced myself against the pain resounding in my body.

After the movie, we went to the seafood restaurant William had chosen. By this time, I was taking short, labored breaths. I sat in the booth with our family, but ordered no food. I could not eat, as I was solely focused on getting breath. The adults deftly balanced worry for me with determination that William have a good time. The last five months of this boy’s life had been laden with chaos and pain. We felt immense pressure to give this boy a day where he could feel happy and loved. I knew I was miserably failing him.

My hands trembled; the music and loud voices made my head swim; my body was drunk with pain. By God’s mercy, I survived the dinner without vomiting or fainting. My brother-in-law steadied me as we exited the restaurant—I was sure patrons watching thought I’d partaken in too much drink—and helped me to the car. We drove home and, with each passing moment, my fear increased.

John swiftly tucked William and Gwyneth into bed and drove me to an emergency clinic; his sister and brother-in-law stayed home with our kids. The doctors were befuddled about the cause of my symptoms. I asked them to take a sample of my urine. The laboratory results revealed a urinary tract infection, which can be fatal to a quadriplegic.

My occupational therapist Ashley had taught me about autonomic dysreflexia, a syndrome suffered by patients with spinal cord injuries at or above the sixth thoracic vertebrae located in the upper back. Since my injury is between the third and fourth cervical vertebrae in the neck, I am at risk for this condition. Autonomic dysreflexia, or AD, is threateningly high blood pressure resulting from pain or discomfort. If uncontrolled, it can lead to a stroke. In a spinal cord injury patient, it has several triggers: an overfull bladder or bowel, an infection in the kidney or bladder, pressure sores, ingrown toenails, cuts, burns, hot or cold temperatures, or blisters.15 I still carry a medical alert card in my wallet explaining the risks and treatments for AD.

On Monday, I told Ashley about my symptoms; she immediately guessed the root of the problem. I was now more cognizant of the thin thread of life able to break at any moment. In this fragile state, the Enemy bid me believe that I’d been cast among the stars, alone, forgotten. But my



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