Hi Everyone:
First of all, Claire sends her love and gratitude for all the messages that you have sent: every word brings solace.
We’re coming up from the initial shock, so I want to give a little more detail about what happened here in Scottsdale.
In the middle of April, Lou was told that he would need a heart valve replacement. As preparations were made, a couple of conditions needed to be addressed first: an infection in his leg, and then a blood clot that was discovered behind his knee. Claire had asked me to come to Scottsdale to give her caregivers (Josh, Nicki, Melissa, Jorge) a little help while Lou was in the hospital, and then to provide my Gestapo services by enforcing a No Donut Rule after he was released.
I arrived on May 10. Lou had the clot removed on May 11. The procedure went well, and the next day he was scheduled for release. I picked him up from the hospital and brought him home at 2:00 p.m. on May 12. He rested, talked, laughed, and kvetched about the tedium of hospitals with Claire, me, and Jorge. (I include a picture that I grabbed from that moment.) He looked the best he looked in many weeks. After a while, I went down the street to pick up some prescriptions for him. While I was gone, they arranged for one of their favorite activities: an evening drive through the gentle foothills below the McDowell Mountains. They expected to return around 6:00, so I prepared dinner. After they got back, Lou took a shower. I was reading in the room next to his dressing room, and I saw him exit the bathroom – at 81, wow, still, hubba hubba – to get dressed. After a couple of minutes, I heard a fall and I hurried to his room: he had collapsed against the wall and was on the ground. I called out to the caregivers: Jorge tried to revive him, Nicki (who had JUST arrived for her shift) called 911, handed me the phone, and immediately began CPR. The local police, fire department, medical services all arrived in about 5 minutes. They took over CPR and began to prepare him for transport to the Emergency Room, just two miles down the street. As this was happening, I went in to Claire, who was in her bed and couldn’t see what was happening. She intuited that the situation was dire, and she was correct. By the time they got Lou to the ER, he was beyond recovery. I followed the ambulance to the hospital, received the news from the attending physician, returned home, and informed Claire. Nicki and I then got her to her wheelchair and took her back to the ER, where she could see him one last time and spend some final moments with him as warmth and spirit left his body.
She is, of course, devastated. This event was sudden, unexpected, and shocking because we thought Lou was on the mend.
The last few days have been rough, but she’s resting and the caregivers and I are providing her as much comfort as we can, while also attending to the business required. Nicki is still getting her into the pool for a few moments a day: that’s where her energy is highest, and the buoyancy of the water gives her mobility and improves her communication. She connects there with the many people in the community who love her and Lou. They are also grieving his loss. She’s receiving many installments of food and condolences during the day. Tim Sabo, Claire’s brother, came over from Dallas, Monday till Tuesday, to provide consolation from the family and to lead a phone discussion with her dad and stepmom about Claire’s short-term and long-term needs.
I will be here for about two more weeks. Her dear friend Geri is preparing to travel from Berkeley to stay with her around the time I leave. Another friend, Naz, is standing by to stay a few days. We want to make sure that Claire has a friend near her now, in addition to the amazing caregivers, who provide 24-hour attention. They are shining and strong individuals, and skilled, talented, and emotionally simpatico professionals. She feels blessed to have them in her life right now.
However, we’re all concerned about the mid-term, from early June on. Claire would like to ask members of the Winedale community if anyone can come to Scottsdale for an extended stay. She needs help with some things that Lou used to do: routine paperwork; simple day-to-day tasks, like grocery shopping, managing food delivery, prescription pickup, etc.; occasional wheelchair walks; communication with the caregivers, and to others through emails and texts; watch TV in the evening; help navigate emotional waters … – sImple stuff that enables her connection with the world as she explores her new normal.
Claire would cover the travel expenses, and there’s a comfortable bedroom at the other end of the house. There’s a beautiful pool. The Greyhawk Encore residents are wonderful people and together make up a furious trivia team for daily play with Amazon Alexa. There’s the austere tranquility of the Sonoran Desert, where Middle and Late Cenozoic extensional tectonism has provided the massy bones for some amazing geological scenery: you can see 1.4 BILLION–year-old (BILLION with a “B”) granite uplifted in nearby Pinnacle Peak. (Claire loves it when you talk geology to her.) There will be preparations for a celebration of Lou’s life being made in the coming months. Tentatively, for the date, she’s thinking about Lou's birthday, September 14. Tentatively, for the marquee, she’s thinking, “Lou-la-pool-Lou-za.” Her brother will help with the nitty gritty of the project, but having someone here to generate and record ideas would be delightful. Claire needs friends near her now, and if your present life circumstances do allow it, think about making an extended journey into the Arden of Arizona to be the Celia (or Celio) to her Rosalind. Contact me if you’d like to discuss this further.
That’s enough for now. Just remember: Catastrophe is an idle idiot who sits on a bench in the park until He jerks awake from his demented stupor and bashes you over the head with a rock. So grab your loved ones now, hug them, kiss them (appropriately), and tell them they are the greatest people in the world.
This is me grabbing you now, virtually hugging you, cyber-kissing you (appropriately), because you are the greatest people in the world,
David