Waiting for the Magic Pill: A Caregiver's Biography

By Deborah Trimm

Waiting for the Magic Pill is Theresa’s story taken from the personal journal she kept during her husband’s illness. She describes the financial, bureaucratic, and medical frustrations and struggles she endured during and after Ray’s illness.

She paints a vivid picture of the emotional scars she carries and how she has been able to pull her life back together with God’s help and guidance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685260170

Book preview

Chapter 1

Ray and I had known each other and dated off and on during high school, so it only seemed natural that after our previous marriages had failed, we’d spend the rest of our lives together growing old and enjoying life to the fullest. We both attended Southeastern Louisiana University where Ray received two bachelor’s degrees, and I met my first husband, John. John and I settled down in Covington, our hometown, where we became parents of two beautiful girls. Eventually, we divorced, and I became a single parent while John stayed in their lives and was as good a father as he could be. Ray drifted from wife to wife and job to job over the years while we still had our friendship to rely on when times seemed near impossible for one of us. I treasured our friendship and knew Ray was the one person I could rely on when my life seemed to be a constant struggle. There was never enough money, so working three jobs just to keep my family above water became the norm. John did the best he could, but he had his second family to help. The hardships were terrible, and the only thing that kept me going was my girls.

I watched my friends settle into their own lives happily married while others struggled with their own divorces. I bounced from one relationship to another, hoping I’d find someone I could trust. I needed someone who would love me as much as I would love them. My girls needed stability in their lives, and I wasn’t capable of giving it to them. And Ray was always there with his broad shoulder to lean on and his kind words of encouragement. We cried together, and we laughed together. We celebrated the good times, and we mourned the bad ones. Through it all, Ray and I continued our friendship.

I’d always dreamed of becoming a nurse, so after the girls left home to begin their own lives, I decided to go back to school. I was nearing forty years old and knew it would be hard. I had to come up with a plan that would allow me to devote all my time to studying and still be able to support myself. I liquidated everything I owned, moved into my mother’s garage apartment, and applied for every grant I thought I had a chance to qualify. I wanted to study at Nichols State University in Thibodaux, Louisiana. There was a problem. I’d been out of school so long I didn’t have the entrance requirements.

When my acceptance letter for a Pell Grant arrived, I began two years of prerequisite studies at Delgado University before applying to nursing school at Nichols State University where my oldest daughter was already attending. I felt such a sense of accomplishment when my acceptance letter from Nichols arrived, and without hesitation, I packed up my belongings and moved to Thibodaux, Louisiana, to begin the next phase of my journey.

To say those years were difficult would be quite an understatement. I was usually the oldest in my classes, and sometimes, being in the same class with my daughter was even harder. Just passing a course wasn’t enough to advance at Nichols. To qualify, one had to have been in the top percentage, so the competition was brutal, and I survived maintaining acceptable grades every semester. During breaks, I returned to my mother’s and to see Ray so we could catch up on what was happening with our lives. My girls had known Ray as a dependable friend most of their lives, and he was the one my youngest daughter turned to when she was experiencing a crisis in her life. Ray gave her and her son a home for a brief time and became her confidante while she struggled with her divorce. He’d call with the latest developments and we’d talk for hours. He’d drive down to Nichols on the weekends, and we’d enjoy each other’s company. He could make me laugh while we’d talk for hours. His visits gave me the much-needed break from the pressures of school. I looked forward to his visits and the time we’d spend together.

Shortly before my graduation, my old computer malfunctioned. Somewhere in the black box was all my research and the draft for my final term paper. Without it, I wouldn’t graduate. I called Ray explaining through my sobs and tears. He was a whiz with computers and took on every problem as his personal challenge. He was confident he could retrieve my work. I remember watching him maneuver through the computer’s inner workings of all those programs and retrieving the research data I’d been preparing for my finals. I realized this man meant more to me than I ever admitted to myself. He was everything I wanted in my life. He brought stability to my life that I’d never felt before. We talked about how different our lives could have been if we’d stayed together and perhaps even married. The past was the past, and there was no need to look back with regrets. We’d stayed in touch all those years because something was still drawing us into each other’s lives. After receiving my degree, I decided to stay in Thibodaux and work at a medical clinic. When my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, I moved back to Covington and accepted a nursing position at a psychiatric hospital.

Ray, on the other hand, never seemed to be able to focus on his own future and drifted from one job to another. For a time, he tried to manage his own computer business but soon became bored with that too. He was one of five children raised by his mother after his father was killed in a plane crash when he was about seven years old. His mother owned and operated a popular restaurant and was able to support her family and provide substantial trusts for each of the children. Ray’s father left her a sizable inheritance, so she was able to provide a comfortable life and perhaps spoil him a bit more than his siblings. I was concerned about his lack of interest in life itself while loving him more as time passed. His life was as confusing as mine had been. He wanted a home, a family, and someone who would love him unconditionally. Everyone knew Ray had substantial holdings, thanks to his mother’s wise investments and his trust fund. He wanted someone who would love him for being him and not just because of his financial status.

When he proposed, I readily accepted on the condition that he gets a real job and stick with it. Our families and friends were excited for us. My children loved Ray and readily accepted him into their lives. He didn’t have a job when we said our vows, but he soon settled down as an information technologist in the computer department at another hospital. He worked days,