That's right. Ever.
Sunday- Scott said he didn't feel good. I called him a **ss*
Monday- He still feels bad, and begins to vomit.
Tuesday- Still vomiting, fears he has the bug that is going around.
Wednesday- Still vomiting. Hasn't eaten since Sunday. I ask him to go to the
doctor. No. I notice he's stumbling when he walks, but I figure he's exhausted
from vomiting, no food, and laying on the couch for 4 days.
I wake up in the middle of the night, hear him moving around, and see black vomit
on the floor, he was ghost white, and incoherent. It took almost 25 minutes to get
him dressed, and out the door. He fell between the front porch and his truck. He said
that is the last thing he remembered. I get him to the ER, get him in a wheelchair, and then dump him out into the parking lot. My. Bad. The nurse let us go right in. His
blood sugar was over 800. He pretty much loses consciousnesses, he was awake, but
had no clue of his surroundings. When the RN was changing him into a gown, the abscess
he had on his shoulder had almost tripled in size. They rush him to ICU. I was
scolded for not bringing him earlier, but as I told them, we were there weeks before
because of the abscess, and they told us to come back, that it wasn't "ripe" enough to be cut on.
Thursday- He's in ICU, mentally not awake. The doctor tells me she doesn't know if he will ever regain full brain function. I am hearing words like "brain damage" and "critical". For a brief time, I thought I may lose him. He went into surgery to remove the infection. Had many cat scans, ultra sounds, a cardiologist was brought in because his heart rate kept elevating. I basically talked to every type of doctor but a gyno. He wakes up for a little while, and when I ask "do you know where you are?", he says no, and when I ask "do you know who I am?" he shakes his head no. For a wife, that was the hardest thing I think I have endured. I had to go home that night, not knowing if my husband would ever "wake up" again.
Friday- I walk in ICU praying he would know me. We made eye contact as I walked through the door, and I knew. He still couldn't talk, but at least he knew who I was. I knew the hospital could heal his body over time, but my main concern was over.
His first words were "I have to pee". I said "you have a catheter dude, pee on." I then broke into song "Free to Pee" from 'The Bridge to Terabithia'. Since ICU has certain visiting hours, I could only see him at 9:30, 12, 5, and 8 for 20 minutes. I live too far away to make that many trips, so I became a lobby lizard. I also had to work either 7-3 or 3-11 so life was interesting.
The next 8 days are slow progress. It was a high five kinda day when he could potty on his own, and then he didn't have to have oxygen anymore. He still has pneumonia. Boo. The infection was almost 9 inches deep, and that caused the spike in his blood sugar. I need a "Diabetes for Dummies" book, because I could have seen the signs pointing to a Diabetic Coma days earlier. One of the last things he said to me before going nutso was "I want sugar". I reminded him he doesn't eat sugar, and to stop being retarded. I NOW know, that diabetics crave sugar right before they are comatose. My. Bad.
14 days later, we are home. He still moves gingerly, and TODAY I got to pack the wound. Painful for him, fun for me. He is doing good monitoring his blood sugar and eating halfway decent. I am thankful for my friends and family who kept me sane during this ordeal, everyone who came to visit, and the 212 texts!!!
Now..let us get back to normal, shall we? Before people figure out I have FEELINGS!!