When Enrico took the vows of marriage, he promised to be my "fateful" husband instead of "faithful," something we joke about.
On Saturday, January 14th, 2017, Enrico came back from skijoring with Noko at about 4:30pm. I was preparing food for the ski and chili feed with the NDSU Nordic Ski Club, scheduled for Sunday. I asked, "How was your ski?" and he didn't answer. I waited a bit, then asked him again. He was just standing by the side door, not coming up right away. Finally, he said, "Okay until the end."
"What happened?" I asked.
No answer.
"Did you get cold?" I glanced up, awaiting an answer. He just shook his head slowly from side to side. He was still not moving.
"Did you get hurt?" I asked.
Sill no answer, but again he shook his head from side to side.
I went down the stairs and hugged him. He was all hot and sweaty and not moving. I came back up, thinking if I gave him a moment, he would snap out of it.
He did take off the skijor belt and started to put away his hat and gloves. However, when he walked across the kitchen, I saw he was limping. He did get hurt! I thought to myself, and he is mad, and doesn't want to tell me about it.
"Are you hurt?" I asked again, following him.
He shook his head again, and very slowly said, "I feel like my right leg and right arm are disconnected from my body."
That is when I realized I needed to take action.
"How about if we go to the hospital?" I asked.
When he did not object, I then knew we had to go to the hospital. I asked him to change his shirt while I got my wallet and keys, but he just stood there, confused. I noticed he was holding his mouth funny, and then I realized we would need to go to the emergency room. Enrico might be having a stroke.
I hustled him into the car, and drove quickly to the emergency room. Fortunately, it is minutes from our house and there were no trains to wait for.
When we arrived, I hustled him inside. He was still not really talking, but he could walk better. I saw my cousin's daughter, Karissa, and asked her where to check in. She pointed the way.
By the time we were seen, Enrico was doing better, and we thought maybe the trip was unnecessary, but Enrico was still not really himself. After a couple of days of testing, the doctors found a tumor on his heart. He would have to have open heart surgery immediately.
On Saturday, January 14th, 2017, Enrico came back from skijoring with Noko at about 4:30pm. I was preparing food for the ski and chili feed with the NDSU Nordic Ski Club, scheduled for Sunday. I asked, "How was your ski?" and he didn't answer. I waited a bit, then asked him again. He was just standing by the side door, not coming up right away. Finally, he said, "Okay until the end."
"What happened?" I asked.
No answer.
"Did you get cold?" I glanced up, awaiting an answer. He just shook his head slowly from side to side. He was still not moving.
"Did you get hurt?" I asked.
Sill no answer, but again he shook his head from side to side.
I went down the stairs and hugged him. He was all hot and sweaty and not moving. I came back up, thinking if I gave him a moment, he would snap out of it.
He did take off the skijor belt and started to put away his hat and gloves. However, when he walked across the kitchen, I saw he was limping. He did get hurt! I thought to myself, and he is mad, and doesn't want to tell me about it.
"Are you hurt?" I asked again, following him.
He shook his head again, and very slowly said, "I feel like my right leg and right arm are disconnected from my body."
That is when I realized I needed to take action.
"How about if we go to the hospital?" I asked.
When he did not object, I then knew we had to go to the hospital. I asked him to change his shirt while I got my wallet and keys, but he just stood there, confused. I noticed he was holding his mouth funny, and then I realized we would need to go to the emergency room. Enrico might be having a stroke.
I hustled him into the car, and drove quickly to the emergency room. Fortunately, it is minutes from our house and there were no trains to wait for.
When we arrived, I hustled him inside. He was still not really talking, but he could walk better. I saw my cousin's daughter, Karissa, and asked her where to check in. She pointed the way.
By the time we were seen, Enrico was doing better, and we thought maybe the trip was unnecessary, but Enrico was still not really himself. After a couple of days of testing, the doctors found a tumor on his heart. He would have to have open heart surgery immediately.
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