Maria — A Wife’s Love That Never Left His Side

It is amazing how I thought it would be a difficult task to put Lily’s description into my own words.

How do I start?

A woman I met the night I was to feel the emotions of someone you just met — anxious because it took all day to see my husband after the terrible operation called Whipple surgery!

This long day of waiting since I took him early to the hospital, without even meeting the surgeon who was doing the procedure.

Many scenarios were in my mind each time I returned to check on him.

And now, to arrive late in the evening — 9 p.m. — to see him for the first time post-operatively. I cannot describe how I felt walking into the recovery room, finding him in such a state: post-operative, with IVs, oxygen, and tubes attached to his cold, pale body.

And yet, the woman who was caring for him, watching over him, was someone I had just met.

Anxious, filled with questions, but I seemed unable to ask — scared of what her answers might be.

Yet when she spoke to me, with a soft, tender voice, full of compassion and reassuring words, she even uttered my name: Maria.

She almost whispered after I stood there, watching him, unable to talk. She said,

“He is ok. Everything went well in the OR. Maria, go home and rest tonight. He will need you tomorrow. He is going to be ok. He will need you tomorrow. I will call you if anything happens, but you can call me anytime tonight to check.”

Just like a spark of an angel from heaven.

I said thank you, not even asking for her name.

I went home and, surprisingly, slept until morning.

I returned relaxed, ready to meet him, feeling hope and no danger.

I didn’t know Lily by face or by name then, but I knew her by the peace she gave me. Her compassionate approach and reassuring, soft voice put me at ease to face the day, feeling safe — knowing Andy was in the hands of the Lord’s angel.

On New Year’s Day, he was getting ready to go home when his temperature suddenly went very high. My nephews were helping us with discharge, and when I returned from lunch, I walked into his room and found it filled with people — doctors, nurses, x-ray, lab — as if a Code Blue had just been called. He was burning with fever, lying there with an oxygen mask.

All I could do was send my nephews back to our condo with their gifts, while I stood in the corner, watching.

That was when MRSA set in — a hospital-acquired infection.

MRSA made him so sick. We ended up staying five months. He couldn’t stop vomiting. They tried several times with stomach tubes, and he needed feeding through them. By this time, he had lost so much weight and strength.

When Lily came to see him in the room facing Granville Island, he was slowly becoming more alert. I would wheel him around just to change his environment. That’s the moment Lily had a face — showing everyone what real nursing is.

As I said, that was the first time I knew her in person. And I remember Andy uttering her name many times.

In time, Andy slowly regained his strength. What began with fear, struggle, and months in hospital ended with hope. Looking back, I will never forget Lily’s compassion during the moments when we needed it most.