My Next Step Read Free Page B

into the rabbit hole as I slipped in and out of consciousness.
    The last thing I strongly remember from that first day is the love and support I felt as everyone gathered in my room, keeping me company while we anxiously awaited the results of my tests. The group included RE/MAX friends like Margaret; Adam Contos, a former police officer who’s now a Vice President; Vinnie Tracey, our President, who’s been with us for thirty five years; and Bruce Benham, one of my senior officers, who’s been with us for twenty years. They’re just some of the people who were there from the very start, and they remained by my family’s side throughout this ordeal. Many of my good friends from outside of RE/MAX were there too, including Dan Predovich, Chris Mauter, Dave Fisher, John Metcalf, and Bob Fisher, who was with RE/MAX from the very start but retired in the 1990s. Everyone’s care and concern overwhelmed me and brought great comfort to my family.
    Day turned into night. Eventually, everyone except Junior went home. He stayed by my side that night so I wouldn’t be alone. He began sending updates to my other kids as well as emails to close family friends to let each of them know I was in the hospital for my back and would likely be there until Dr. Prusmack could see me the next day.
    This is the part of my story where others have filled in the details for me. Many of the events that took place over the course of the next seventy-five days are reflected through their eyes and experiences. I have very little personal recollection of all that transpired, but I’ve been given enough information by them to piece together and share my story with you.
    MARY
    My brother Dave emailed me that Dad was on the sixth floor at Sky Ridge, getting a Cortisone shot for his back. I, of course, asked, “Can I come by for a visit?” I thought, sixth floor, Sky Ridge, can’t be too serious, but I wanted to be by his and Gail’s side. I went to the hospital late in the day on Monday—the day after he checked in—thinking he’d be lying in bed with friends all around him. But when I walked into his room, I realized something was terribly wrong. Dad was hallucinating and shaking while complaining about being hot, then cold. It was the first time in my life that I was scared for someone in my family—especially my dad, who is the toughest man I know. I wasn’t prepared to see him in such a vulnerable position, but I didn’t tell anyone how I really felt—which was terrified. I certainly didn’t want to escalate the situation with my own emotions.
    Around two o’clock that Monday morning, I began mumbling something about how many ribs we needed to make per person for the party. Gail and I had been planning our annual Super Bowl bash the following weekend, so maybe that’s what was on my mind, but under the circumstances, it made no sense. Junior thought I was just talking in my sleep from all of the medication I was on and laughed off my drug-induced babble at first. But then he noticed that my breathing was becoming noticeably shallow and thought I might be taking a turn for the worse. The doctors decided to insert a ventilator tube to help me breathe. I have a gag reflex issue so it was clear that I wasn’t going to tolerate their efforts well. Even when I visit the dentist, it takes a lot of nitrous oxide and some good Doors music on my headphones to make me relaxed enough to sit still in the chair. It’s a good thing I was in a semi-conscious state, because they wouldn’t have been able to get that tube in any other way.
    By Monday afternoon, Mary and John arrived at Sky Ridge to see me. John immediately recognized that I was having a very hard time getting out of bed to go to the bathroom, and suggested that the doctors insert a catheter to keep me more comfortable and still. My paralysis made it all but impossible to stand on my own, so as painful as it was to insert, it was the best solution for when nature called. John has a