Recognizing the signs of angels who walk among us

A few weeks after my late husband, Jeff, was diagnosed with ALS in 2018, we were sitting in our primary care doctor’s office to talk. We’d just received a second opinion confirming the diagnosis, and we were reeling.

I remember how brutal the appointment felt for all three of us. Jeff and I were exhausted, sad, and unmoored. “Doc” (our doctor insisted on being called that) must’ve been heartsick, as he’d been as hopeful as we were for better news.

Doc is still my doctor today, more than four years after Jeff’s death. Although he isn’t a neurologist, he was a full and present partner in caring for us while Jeff lived with ALS, treating us as a family and proactively tracking our search for answers from the time that Jeff’s earliest symptoms began.

We saw Doc regularly throughout Jeff’s illness. He provided a sense of normalcy during the most challenging time of our lives, treating the often overlooked minor ailments and physical complaints of everyday life while ALS consumed our days otherwise. He monitored our weight and appetites, our moods, and our overall well-being. When Jeff and I visited, we generally did so together, and it felt good for our relationship to help each other take care of ourselves.

Recommended Reading

July 21, 2023 Columns by James Clingman

How veterans organizations helped me respond to ALS

Texting Zedd

On some occasions, though, we visited Doc alone. During one of those appointments by myself, Doc shared profound words with me. As we said goodbye in the hallway outside the exam room, he made a brief comment that deeply moved me at the time and has stayed in the forefront of my mind ever since.

“You are going to meet some people on this journey that will be angels to you,” he remarked, as my eyes brimmed with residual tears from the sadness I’d shared during our visit.

This simple message brought me immediate and profound comfort. The idea that people can relate to what was already an isolating and terrifying time reassured me. Those words and that moment with Doc stayed with me as Jeff and I navigated his rapidly progressing illness.

Gradually, over the next 19 months as Jeff lived with ALS, and then again in the months and years beyond his death, I learned how true Doc’s words were. There were indeed angels, and they had no idea they were.

Angels came in the form of the social worker who answered the phone at the ALS Association’s Washington, D.C., Maryland, and Virginia chapter and spoke with me for an hour on the scariest day of my life. They came in the form of my former roommate Ashley, whose husky dog, Zedd, “texted” me nearly daily to send love. Even when I had no energy to text or return calls, I always managed to text Zedd back.

Angels came in the form of our next-door neighbor, with whom I shared countless cups of coffee on her back porch as she related her own lessons from caregiving for her late husband. They came in the form of my hairstylist and her husband, who came unbidden to hang our Christmas lights when we could not.

And angels came in the form of Doc, whose constant and steady presence and genuine concern bore witness to Jeff’s and my joint and individual experience with ALS. He cared for us as a family. He gave us hope and kindness in abundance, treating us with both professionalism and empathy.

Since Jeff died in May 2020, I’ve been seeing Doc regularly to make sure I’m looking after my physical and mental health. He’s always candid with me, sharing honestly the things that both encourage and concern him about how I’m doing. We celebrate my successes and make action plans for areas where I want to do better.

“You said something profound to me on a visit while Jeff was alive,” I remarked to Doc as I was leaving a recent appointment. “You told me I’d meet people on this journey that would be angels to us.”

“That meant you,” I said.

“Oh, I didn’t mean me!” he exclaimed, humbly.

“I know you didn’t,” I said, “but it’s still you. You don’t get to choose who the angels are.”

We both laughed, and he hugged me goodbye until next time.

We never know the impact we can have on people with the smallest of gestures at the exact right time. There are indeed angels among us if we’re open to seeing and meeting them. They come in the least expected places and at the least expected — and most welcome and needed — times.

Note: ALS News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of ALS News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to ALS.