The shock of the news, our constant worries, and our sense of utter helplessness played on a continuous loop in our heads. Our sorrow and pain were magnified each time we updated our family and friends on Matt’s status. Our frantic trips, long hours, and sleepless nights finally caught up with us. We were exhausted. We needed to rest, regroup, and process our ordeal. The staff assured us they would watch over Matt in our absence and call us immediately if a concern arose. Our family headed to Matt’s house, but without a key, we had no way to get in. We failed miserably at breaking and entering. Corinne convinced a locksmith of our situation who kindly unlocked a door for us. What a blessing to have such a large, comfortable haven to get away from the hospital. We pillaged Matt’s refrigerator and ate leftover beef stew. Each couple settled into one of three bedrooms and attempted to get a few hours of sleep and prepare for what lay ahead.

When we returned the staff pressed us for details of Matt’s medical history. It was disconcerting, for Mike and I, to admit that our foreknowledge of Matt’s affairs and the location of important documents were inadequate, and as a result, we were unable to answer many of the medical staff inquiries regarding his health, names of physicians, and medications. Fortunately, his previous brain MRIs and CAT scans were available through the medical center’s patient portals. Later we searched through his personal records and files; and gathered whatever pertinent information we could find to relay to his care providers. The critical care team utilized this information to select evidence-based practices to stabilize Matt’s cardiopulmonary function and address changes in his condition.

They also needed us to establish a timeline of activities before his accident and narrow down the potential time it happened. That was no easy task. All we knew was that he wasn’t at our 7:00 pm family chat Sunday night. Neighbors were able to convey he had been seen outside his house around 2:30 Saturday afternoon. The next clue was his pancake griddle, cleaned and still sitting out on the counter, which suggested he lost consciousness before lunch on Sunday because tidy Matt would have put breakfast dishes away before his next meal. We further deduced that since there were casual dress clothes laid out on his bed, once home from church he had changed into the exercise clothes in which he was found. Therefore, we estimated Matt’s accident happened between 10:30 am and 12:00 pm, meaning twenty-seven to twenty-eight hours had elapsed before help arrived. Too much time.

Family conversations kept circling back to the undeniable fact that having been unconscious for so long further compounded his grim prognosis. How did he survive? Potential scenarios played out in our minds and the ever-looming end-of-life decision settled like a heavy weight on our very beings. Various questions haunted our thoughts as well, such as “What would Matt want us to do?” Our varied perspectives and insights gave depth to our discussions. We became a tight-knit group of six as we learned to value and support each other in this unexpected and unwanted crisis. Every effort was made to ensure that no stone was left unturned, yet anyway, we spun the story, there was no happy ending.