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It's February 11, 1993. While at work I received a frantic phone call from our daughter, who was only 6 at the time. Willy had collapsed at home. We had established that he was stable enough for me to arrive home, which only took about 6 minutes, but as my daughter described it, an eternity.
To fast track, he was admitted to hospital. Kidney failure!! Cause unknown.
He was in excruciating pain, and immediately on Morphine.
The days blended into each other, watching my husband deteriorate due to a diagnosis we still didn't understand. Exploratory surgery was warranted, and although we did receive the cause, the terminology was even harder to understand.
The days prior, I kept hearing conversations about a "Purple Chicken." I chalked this up to his drug induced euphoria, and paid no mind.
It was Valentine's Day, visiting Willy, cherishing what and who meant the most to me. One of his work buddies came in to visit, and announced the "Purple Chicken" had arrived. Next thought, they must be sharing the same drugs.
His co-worker slipped a small package into Willy's hand, and with this he extended his hand out to me and said "Happy Valentine's Day."
It was a diamond solitaire pendant. Willy was never one to buy jewelry, so this was an emotional moment. He apparently had this hidden in his desk at work.
I am happy to say he recovered,and by wearing the pendant on a daily basis, I have that constant reminder of a man that loves me deeply, and how close I came to loosing him.