More Emor

I know way more than I want to about emergency rooms at 3 in the morning. We were there, again, early Saturday AM.

Friday was supposed to be a reunion of sorts with old friends who were in town and wanted to go out to a local restaurant for dinner. I went home for lunch, taking a break from my consulting gig, and all was well. We talked about how nice it was going to be to see these friends. Plus, one of C’s best friends was also driving down from Duluth to spend the weekend and cover for me as I did the reverse trip north to see my parents.

All of that went out the window as I came home after a long day to find C in the bedroom, sick. She had been reacquainting herself with the inside of the commode in a far too intimate fashion for the previous couple of hours. Our poor girl was in no shape to go out for dinner. Since the reservations were made and the friends on the way, K, J, and I went, leaving Sophie the Wonder Dawg on medical duty, watching over our barfy mother and spouse.

I would like to say that the dinner was great and the time wonderful (and of course it was), but it also wasn’t because there was a hole at the table. Upon returning home and bidding our guests adieu, I found that C had invited a fever to come and join the party and after making a phone consultation, we headed down to the University Hospital’s Emergency room about midnight.

We spent the next several hours going over old ground, giving blood, taking cultures, getting X-rays, and generally feeling pretty lousy. To give you an idea of how tired I was, I laid down on the floor of the emergency room stall where we were housed because I could not stay upright in the oh-so-hard visitor’s chair the hospital reluctantly provides for the next of kin. That lasted for an unknown period of time (my consciousness was briefly on vacation), but then the mortuary slab-like temperature of the floor eventually seeped into my bones and I begrudgingly reoccupied the chair.

We eventually were given a pass to go home as they couldn’t find anything glaringly wrong with C. By then it was 3 AM and we sleepily wove our way home where we passed a mostly sleepless period consisting of tossing, turning, and moaning. The fever came back in spades, peaking at 103 something just before dawn. We went through a period of half-consciousness before heading back down to the clinic – a requirement in return for not being admitted to the hospital the night before.

There, we did the same as in the emor hours before. Bloodwork, cultures, pokes and prods – listening to the sounds of internal bodily functions. Turns out that the radiologist says C has pneumonia, so there were additional antibiotics. We were wrecks and looked every inch of it. You know that things are bad when the staff of the cancer clinics stand over you with pursed lips and sorrowful expressions – and that was for me.

We went in again today (as we will for the next five days) to keep an eye on what’s going on with this infection, but today, we were better. The fever is still there on and off, but we got some sleep last night. We hope that this means that C is turning the corner. We will keep you informed.

Oh, BTW, I didn’t go to Duluth (sorry Mom and Dad). C’s best friend and Sister-in-Law did come down. We made the best of it.

TTFN, P.