With one out in the top of the 7th, Rich Simonds woke up in his hospital bed to the Cardinals getting shut down by a series of Pirates relievers. He had missed the previous 6 innings, being too tired to stay awake, but the sounds of Cardinals baseball gradually seeped into his consciousness and his eyes opened with Ivan Herrera at the plate. Somewhat groggy, he was still half asleep when Herrera grounded out. But when Alec Burleson broke up the perfect game with an infield single, he was at least awake enough to start paying attention to the game. And he stayed awake to watch the Cardinals come back in the 9th inning and win the game.
Earlier that day, the doctors had deemed my dad able to breathe on his own for the first time since the previous Wednesday. And while that Monday was a good day, he was mostly still pretty miserable, because he couldn’t do a lot on his own, his voice was very raspy and sore from having a tube down his throat for five days, and he still had double pneumonia, the disease that caused him to need help breathing in the first place. Barely able to stay awake for most of that first day, he was improbably awake for the improbable comeback.
While he was unconscious, I had a running joke that I would tell my dad whenever I saw him, which is that the Cardinals were waiting for him to wake up. And then it became not a joke. I rushed to the hospital in the middle of my work day before he was intubated, and shortly after that, the Cardinals lost to the Marlins. Wednesday was a tough day, because he needed 100% oxygen and the doctor was not comforting when explaining the situation. It wasn’t her job to make me or my family feel comfortable, I was just hoping for more “This is nothing, he will be back.” And we didn’t get that. The seriousness of the situation settled in.
But Thursday morning, we got the update that he had an uneventful night and his oxygen percentage needed from the machine went down. And then every new day came with slightly better news. I got excited at things I did not understand, but was told was good news, like the pressure from the machine dropping from 10 to 8. It quickly became clear that he had a good chance to get off the tube by next week. Meanwhile, the Cardinals lost on Friday to the Mariners. And then Saturday. And I was in the ICU with him unconscious with my mom watching the Cardinals get swept by the Mariners. I again told him that he needed to wake up because the Cardinals were waiting for him.
Leaving the hospital that night, I was hopeful they would take out his breathing tube the next day or Tuesday, but I was surprised to wake up to a text message that they had already removed the tube. He was woken up before the tube was removed, and I was told he motioned for his tube to be taken out, but they were waiting for a reason I can’t remember, and he threw up a couple of middle fingers. He has no memory of this, but I knew my dad was back when I heard that.
He still didn’t feel very good on Tuesday. He was still making progress, but you don’t see it as progress when you’re living through it. I was unable to see him on Monday due to the tornado warning, but I went straight after work on Tuesday. I left before the Cardinal game started, but made plans to see the game with him the next day. He said it was probably good I was leaving, because he didn’t think he could stay awake for the game. Well, he did. He watched the Cardinals’ offense explode for 11 runs and beat the Pirates despite the best efforts of the Cardinals’ bullpen to blow it.
You see my dad, in case it wasn’t obvious, is an enormous Cardinals fan. It’s something I picked up from him and my mom, who both shared season tickets with my grandparents for years. When I went to college (and the prospect of two siblings not far behind), they were forced to drop it. Also, I believe it was because neither my brother nor sister are as big of Cardinals fans as I am and I think that was just too many games where if I’m not an option, it might be a struggle to find people to go to the game.
But we did start a tradition during that period of time, which continues to this day, which is that I go to Opening Day with my mom. My dad was a construction worker and couldn’t ever go because of work. My mom would take me out of school and we would go to Opening Day together. It stopped briefly when I went to college, but it continued as if he had never stopped after I graduated. My dad retired a few years after that, but graciously let the tradition continue between me and my mom. He even drives us to the game and then picks us up after.
Another reason developed why he couldn’t go to Opening Day, which is that he got an infection on his foot maybe five years ago that has never quite healed. It has constantly been on the verge of healing, and then something comes up, and it’s like he has to start from scratch. He is very rarely not been under orders from doctors to stay off his foot as much as possible. It has prevented us from taking baseball trips and from him going to a lot of games. He has attended Cardinals games – not as many as he’d like and none so far this year – but we would park as close as possible, walk directly to our seat, and then stay in our seat until we were ready to leave. You can see how this would be a problem on Opening Day.
Because of his foot, he was prescribed antibiotics. He’s used to those, and when he felt the side effects, it didn’t raise any alarm bells. He’s used to side effects. If there’s a bad side effect he can get, he’ll get it. His new nickname is “Worst Case Rich” which he has more than earned even before this recent development. It turns out this side effect was actually double pneumonia, which is an extremely rare side effect. He was lethargic, sick and had no appetite for a couple weeks before it became all but impossible not to go to the doctor’s. He went to the hospital on Monday, they exhausted other options, but he couldn’t keep his breathing rate above 90, and he was absolutely miserable. Intubation became the only option.
On Wednesday with my mom and sister, we all watched the Cardinals run up the score to 5-1 in in his tiny hospital room, and then once again, the bullpen tried their hardest to blow the game, culminating in the game-saving catch by Nathan Church that we all thought was going to be a homer. The next day, I get a call asking me if I’m watching the game. Unfortunately, I was at work. He told me JJ Wetherholt homered to lead off the game against Paul Skenes. After I hung up, he called me almost immediately to share that Jordan Walker just homered. He also shared excitedly that he was sitting down watching the game, and that he could sit for as long as he wanted. Trust me, this was big news.
By the time I saw him next, on Saturday night, we watched the game again and he was in a chair the entire game. He was animated and talkative – two things he was very much not on Wednesday. We talked baseball the entire time, interrupted at points by the helpful nurses at Mercy. Eventually my uncle joined us and we watched a relatively stress free game – until the end when the Cardinals almost made a bunch of plays before Riley O’Brien decided he better just strike the guy out to avoid another almost catch.
The magical streak came to an end on Sunday, but the streak did its job. We had a great day on Sunday with my entire family which included my nephew and his grandson. He was pretty down at the beginning of his recovery, looking at the long road ahead, but he had the Cardinals. The unknown, incomprehensible spirit that lives within us sometimes needs a little bit of a boost. The Cardinals’ winning streak provided that.
I will never have any way of proving it, but I do believe the Cardinals winning streak did a lot for my dad. At the beginning, I kind of suspect he needed the Cardinals to win in a way, and winning has a way of instantly improving any fan’s mood. Mood can be very important for recovery and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my dad seemed to improve by leaps and bounds each day and seems to be himself, now to ready to face the rehab process. There’s even hope for his foot which as it turns out, the one positive of being stuck in a hospital bed for a week, is that you are off your foot. Very strange bright side, but a bright side nonetheless.
The winning streak did its job. Now he’s like the rest of us, desperately wanting the Cardinals to win and being invested in every pitch, but if they lose, oh well there’s another day tomorrow.
