As my wife undergoes an MRI, I send our daughter to school and then call my workplace to get the day off. The secretary’s response reminds me of the day I called in to work twenty years ago to tell them my father died.

I go through the house. Get some of my wife’s clothes, her cellphone charger, toiletries and makeup bag*.

I return to the hospital and learn that my wife has been admitted. They say they weren’t sure where to put her at first. The condition is so rare – fewer than 1 in 100,000 people get it. Eventually they choose the oncology ward because of its elevated infection control protocol. Huh?

The neurologist gives the diagnosis: Idiopathic transverse myelitis**, inflammation of the spinal cord.

She is given an IV of corticosteroids at a high dose to reduce the inflammation. This greatly weakens the immune system, which is why she is placed with cancer patients. Another IV is given for pain treatment.

My wife seems fine from about the waist up. She cannot walk. Her leg muscles are rock hard – they are in a constant state of contraction. She’s in good spirits.

She tells me that she gets visitors. A doctor will show up with a gaggle of med students. They ask questions. She answers, pleased to be the center of attention. They will never see another patient with transverse myelitis for the rest of their careers.

I bring our daughter to visit. At first, the head nurse refuses – the protocol prohibits children from entering the ward. They harbor too many pathogens. But eventually she relents -- mother and daughter are united.

As "Mr. Mom" I treat my daughter to Chinese food, my homemade bachelor food, casseroles provided by her classmates or neighbors. We go on day by day.

* The makeup bag turns out to be a great indicator of my wife’s mood and condition.

** Transverse myelitis