In pursuit of the best fit for Matt and us, the Care Manager broadening her search to include facilities closer to our home in New York. In particular, she applied to Sunnyview Inpatient Rehab Hospital in Schenectady, NY. It was 40 minutes from our home. As physical therapists, Mike and I were familiar with its excellent reputation. and if at all possible, we wanted the bulk of Matt’s rehabilitation there.

As we waited to hear back from the various rehab facilities the Care Manager was also in close communication with Matt’s health insurance company to ensure services were in the network for the different facilities. Favorably, she learned that Sunnyview was in the plan, and a direct transfer from St. Luke’s to Sunnyview could be arranged if she was able to find an ambulance company that not only provided ventilatory care but was willing to transport Matt four hours north across state lines. It was complicated and the out-of-pocket costs were projected at upwards of $2,000. The persistence of our advocate finally paid off. Not only did she find a company that was willing and able, but the trip was fully covered by insurance. What a wonderful surprise.

Gratefully, Sunnyview agreed to accept Matt as a patient, and arrangements for the ambulance were solidified. Once given the go-ahead, the remaining details were finalized. Friday, May 4, 2018, was set for discharge. Thursday, I brought in a large tray of Panera pastries for the staff—a small expression of appreciation for their compassionate care. It began as a party of sorts, that is, until 9:44 am when our celebration and Matt’s plans came to a screeching halt. At the last minute, Matt’s health insurance denied coverage at Sunnyview Hospital.

This wicked turn of events took me by complete surprise—and by me, I mean just me. I was the last man standing.  Over the past two weeks, our children had gradually departed to resume their responsibilities; and Mike had left early that morning to attend a prior educational commitment. I was on my own to get back in the ring and fight for our son.

The Critical Care Physician overseeing Matt’s care took charge. He requested a peer-to-peer review with their admission representative to identify the problem. I filled the endless day pacing and fretting, praying and worrying. Text messages sailed through space alerting family and friends. I sat with Matt and held his hand for reassurance. It was impossible to squelch the fear rising within and trying to consume me. My perseverance stretched thin as I continued to wait and wait some more. The questions of why and what if Matt had to go to a different rehab facility, farther from home, played on continuous repeat in my mind. After all of my efforts to prepare myself to take this resolute step, I couldn’t imagine starting the process over again, or having to stay any longer—especially alone. What a cliffhanger.

It was late afternoon before I heard the good news at last. Thankfully, it had not been a question about his qualification for their rehab services, but rather a simple misunderstanding. Once the insurance company was assured that Sunnyview, did indeed have a pulmonary unit and the ability to wean Matt off the ventilator, they readily agreed to his transfer.

Many well-wishers stopped by to say a final goodbye and to acknowledge what a wonderful family Matt had. Some even asked to be kept apprised of Matt’s progress. The best visit was saved for last. The doctor who came to my rescue, my hero, stopped by as I was preparing to leave. Not only did he facilitate Matt’s transfer, but this is the doctor who affirmed our decision to move forward, declaring, “Matt’s chance of recovery was good because he had been so smart.” His belief gave me hope.

Returning to Matt’s house that evening, it was a mad scramble to get my act together before heading north in the morning. There was too much to be done and only one pair of hands to do it all. I needed to tidy up, clean the house, and clear out the refrigerator and cupboards of perishable items. Then pack everything, including my belongings, and Matt’s clothes and personal items. As I prepared to leave Easton, I reflected on how well his house had served us for the month we had taken up residence there.

That night I fell into bed beyond exhausted.

Friday morning, to the nurses’ surprise, I declined to see Matt depart St. Luke’s hospital in the ambulance. There was no time. It would be impossible, as it was, for me to drive the 4 hours home, unpack, turn around, and arrive at Sunnyview Hospital to welcome Matt.  C’est la vie—it could not be helped. We would make it work and going forward they could count on me to be there for Matt.

With this move, we chose to embrace life. Although we might falter, we will not be bullied by the secrets the future holds. We will fight for every possibility and never give up.