When my sweetie was in the ICU, one of our previous roomates, a writer, wrote short story about him. She allowed me to post it. Here it is:

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, You make me happy when skies are grey....”
I was sitting on my hospital bed, curtains fully closed around me, when I heard this song being sung in a low, raspy voice that I assumed came from an older gentleman.
I felt so tired. Just how sick was I? What ward was this, anyway? Why on earth did I need an ambulance to bring me to Calgary? I have work to do, I thought. I just don’t have time for this.
Then I heard the gentle, raspy voice singing this very old, sweet song that my parents, and probably my grandparents, used to sing. I said, to whoever sat on the other side of the curtain: “That was beautiful". The voice answered: “She came all the way from Israel for me. It’s still a dream to me.” I didn’t say any more, I couldn’t, I just sat there crying.
A few hours later, unable to sleep, the prednisone the doctor prescribed for me did its magical work. It was described to me as the “wonderful, horrible” drug during my stay, a corticosteroid medicine often used to effectively treat inflammatory disease, but with a list of possible side effects that reads like a horror story. Overnight I felt myself growing stronger, more alert; by morning I could breathe again.
That morning I felt up to meeting my neighbors. I said good morning to Ted, the cranky old guy across from me who had had a pretty rough night. Then I turned to meet Betty, the older woman in the bed next to me who seemed to have a constant stream of family visiting, and whose husband I had assumed to be the singer. I said again that it had been beautiful to hear, but she had no memory of hearing a song; she had probably been asleep.
A younger couple was sitting in the far corner of the room by the fourth bed, and I turned to look at them. The moment I saw a beautiful young dark-haired woman smiling up at me, I said, “It was you.” She was the woman who had come from Israel. A young man sat next to her, also smiling, and the various tubes and machines to which he was attached made me understand why the voice I heard had seemed older.
This is how I met Alysia and Phil. Over the next few days I learned a few things about these two. First and foremost, I learned how very much in love they are. Alysia and Phil both have Wegener's Granulomatosis, which causes inflammation of the blood vessels, which in turn restricts blood flow to various organs. It often affects the lungs and upper respiratory tract and/or the kidneys, but it can affect other organs as well. There is a world-wide network of “Weggies” who connect online, and this is how Alysia and Phil first met.
Alysia is a beauty, a woman in her early forties who could be thirty. She is one of the most open-hearted people I have ever met, and in action, a force of nature.... I watched over the course of three days how she would immediately assess and discuss any changes in Phil’s condition with him, and if outside help was needed, she would go out into the pulmonary ward to find the person she needed to provide that help. She sat with him throughout the day, accompanied him on walks, and sat again with him into the wee hours of the night. she would wander back to her room only to catch a few hours of sleep at the end of each day.
Phil is, quite simply, the bravest soul I have ever encountered. This thirty-something, easy-going guy is known to friends as “the Batman” for his courage and strength. He is gentle, good-humored, extremely knowledgeable about his condition, and grateful for the care he receives from everyone – doctors, nurses, family, friends, and of course his great love, Alysia. When Phil was being wheeled out of the room to have a larger tube inserted into a collapsing lung, and the tears started welling up for me again, he grabbed my hand and was the one to put me at ease. He said it was going to be OK. And it was.
I’m not going to pretend to know much about Phil’s condition. I had a good chat with his Dad, and what I do know is that it has been a battle hard-fought, an emotional one and an expensive one as well; Medicare just doesn’t cover all the costs associated with dealing with this condition. Phil’s family come from Swift Current and are happy to do whatever they can to help. The love and admiration are obvious; they know what a remarkable man he is. As part of Phil and Alysia’s community on facebook now, I see how that love and admiration has expanded. These brave people move and inspire so many.
So, what does one do in the face of all this love and courage?
I still wanted to vacate my much-needed hospital bed, I still wanted to get home to my own loved ones. But Alysia and Phil had catapulted me out of myself for long periods of my hospital stay, and something significant had shifted in my thinking. It just wasn’t about me any more.
Phil's challenges over the past weeks have been many, but the strength this man has exhibited in beating the odds has been extraordinary. He has a rock-solid sense of faith, and a world-wide community continues to pray and root for him....
I was sad to leave my new friends, sad for them…
Sad because the romantic and the artist in me wanted to write an epic ending to this amazing love story.