Get better NOW.
Last week, Jason got a call that his buddy, Travis, had been sent to the ER. As it turned out, his doctor had misdiagnosed his pneumonia as bronchitis. As a result, the bacterial infection ran into his blood, which then turned into septic shock. Since then, Travis's heart has failed 2 times and he is now sedated in the ICU where they predict he will have to stay for months to recover.
Jason was crushed by the news. I tried my best to comfort him and dry his tears. A few days later we joined a throng of Travis's friends and his family in the waiting room, where we sat for hours talking, joking, and hoping that Travis could feel the love just 50 feet from his room.
Yesterday afternoon, Jason and I paid another visit to Travis. This time we were able to see him. He was pretty sedated; they said that in sedation, hearing is the last to go, so we found Travis's swollen hands among the maze of IV's and talked to him...telling him all that he had missed, joking about his pretty nurses...I could tell Jason was fighting back tears. It's hard to see someone close to you lying in the hospital like that.
That night Jason and I went grocery shopping since my kitchen cabinets were as bare as a convent. It sounds nerdy, but we always have a good time when we go grocery shopping. We work well as a team and it's one of the few times we can go hours without arguing. I thought the day was picking up and we returned to my place feeling good and ready to rest.
Late that night, we were woken up by my phone ringing. It was my mom. At first I ignored it, but the lateness of the hour seemed out of place, so I called her back. Obviously unsteady, my mother slowly shared the news: my closest cousin, Henry, had fallen unconscious at his home in Austin and had been rushed to the ER. He hadn't woken up in 2 days. My mother didn't know what he had...something about the brain...infection...I knew her nerves were fraying so I promised to pray for him and hung up. My mind wandered from one question to the next. I'm fairly good at diagnosis, so my first thought was Meningitis. I'd done a research project on the illness in college, and I knew that there were two strains - one far more deadly than the other, but both incredibly dangerous if not caught early. Did they catch it early enough? Was he going to be okay? I closed my eyes and tried to talk to him...Henry, it's Leslie. Please wake up. Wake up! We're supposed to fly to Houston to see you and your family in a week. I haven't seen you in so long. Wake up, Henry, wake up...
At 6:30 in the morning, I woke up as Jason got up to go to the bathroom for at least the second time as we slept. I asked if something was wrong. With his eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed, he gripped the covers close to his chest and in a pained voice, said, "I can't sleep. I don't feel good."
I reached over to feel his forehead. Boiling hot. I studied his face, as if it could tell me what was wrong. When he said, "I want to see a doctor," I knew it was serious. I asked him to tell me everything that was wrong. It sounded like he had a bad case of the flu.
Four hours, several arguments, two long drives, and two hurriedly packed bags later, we confirmed my suspicion at his doctor's office. The doctor even added that, even though he didn't think a chest X-ray was necessary, he wouldn't be surprised if Jason also had a touch of pneumonia.
Great. I held my tongue...which held months of "take this medicine", "you need to eat better", "drink water, not alcohol", "you should see a doctor for that cough", "you shouldn't be working outside". An "I told you so" just didn't seem to cut it.
We left with 4 new prescriptions and an order for him not to work for at least another week. We drove to a Walgreens where he whined and muttered empty threats because of the long wait for the medicine. I knew Jason, when sick, was the worst patient on the planet...an egocentric shit, basically. So instead of knawing my frustration on him, I walked around Walgreens until our medicine arrived.
As soon as we arrived at his place, he flew immediately to the couch, shivering in a giant comforter. As head nurse, I wasted no time in reading all the labels on the medications and neatly popped them out and placed them neatly on a plate for him. I even bought a Gatorade bottle with a twist top so he'd be able to drink without lifting his head.
I brought the plate to him, and even then, that didn't seem to be enough to appease him. I tried to reason with him but he told me to "quit your bitchin'" and "show some compassion". Compassion?! If I wasn't catering to his every need because of compassion, why was I doing it?
Soon after my mom called to confirm that Henry had a case of viral meningitis. He was still unconscious, but it was partly because of the medicine, and they expect him to be in the ICU for several more days. It looks like he'll recover, though.
I'm so relieved that it looks like everyone will eventually recover. But I still wonder...how many people today suffer needlessly? Why is it so hard to take care of ourselves?
If you're reading this, TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOURSELF! Good health is priceless. I'll never understand why people, especially men, think they're invincible and that beer is just as good a multivitamin as any. As one who's grown up with several diseases, it infuriates me to see perfectly healthy people take their health for granted.
Swallow your pride, people. While you're at it, swallow a few vitamins with OJ!
Jason was crushed by the news. I tried my best to comfort him and dry his tears. A few days later we joined a throng of Travis's friends and his family in the waiting room, where we sat for hours talking, joking, and hoping that Travis could feel the love just 50 feet from his room.
Yesterday afternoon, Jason and I paid another visit to Travis. This time we were able to see him. He was pretty sedated; they said that in sedation, hearing is the last to go, so we found Travis's swollen hands among the maze of IV's and talked to him...telling him all that he had missed, joking about his pretty nurses...I could tell Jason was fighting back tears. It's hard to see someone close to you lying in the hospital like that.
That night Jason and I went grocery shopping since my kitchen cabinets were as bare as a convent. It sounds nerdy, but we always have a good time when we go grocery shopping. We work well as a team and it's one of the few times we can go hours without arguing. I thought the day was picking up and we returned to my place feeling good and ready to rest.
Late that night, we were woken up by my phone ringing. It was my mom. At first I ignored it, but the lateness of the hour seemed out of place, so I called her back. Obviously unsteady, my mother slowly shared the news: my closest cousin, Henry, had fallen unconscious at his home in Austin and had been rushed to the ER. He hadn't woken up in 2 days. My mother didn't know what he had...something about the brain...infection...I knew her nerves were fraying so I promised to pray for him and hung up. My mind wandered from one question to the next. I'm fairly good at diagnosis, so my first thought was Meningitis. I'd done a research project on the illness in college, and I knew that there were two strains - one far more deadly than the other, but both incredibly dangerous if not caught early. Did they catch it early enough? Was he going to be okay? I closed my eyes and tried to talk to him...Henry, it's Leslie. Please wake up. Wake up! We're supposed to fly to Houston to see you and your family in a week. I haven't seen you in so long. Wake up, Henry, wake up...
At 6:30 in the morning, I woke up as Jason got up to go to the bathroom for at least the second time as we slept. I asked if something was wrong. With his eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed, he gripped the covers close to his chest and in a pained voice, said, "I can't sleep. I don't feel good."
I reached over to feel his forehead. Boiling hot. I studied his face, as if it could tell me what was wrong. When he said, "I want to see a doctor," I knew it was serious. I asked him to tell me everything that was wrong. It sounded like he had a bad case of the flu.
Four hours, several arguments, two long drives, and two hurriedly packed bags later, we confirmed my suspicion at his doctor's office. The doctor even added that, even though he didn't think a chest X-ray was necessary, he wouldn't be surprised if Jason also had a touch of pneumonia.
Great. I held my tongue...which held months of "take this medicine", "you need to eat better", "drink water, not alcohol", "you should see a doctor for that cough", "you shouldn't be working outside". An "I told you so" just didn't seem to cut it.
We left with 4 new prescriptions and an order for him not to work for at least another week. We drove to a Walgreens where he whined and muttered empty threats because of the long wait for the medicine. I knew Jason, when sick, was the worst patient on the planet...an egocentric shit, basically. So instead of knawing my frustration on him, I walked around Walgreens until our medicine arrived.
As soon as we arrived at his place, he flew immediately to the couch, shivering in a giant comforter. As head nurse, I wasted no time in reading all the labels on the medications and neatly popped them out and placed them neatly on a plate for him. I even bought a Gatorade bottle with a twist top so he'd be able to drink without lifting his head.
I brought the plate to him, and even then, that didn't seem to be enough to appease him. I tried to reason with him but he told me to "quit your bitchin'" and "show some compassion". Compassion?! If I wasn't catering to his every need because of compassion, why was I doing it?
Soon after my mom called to confirm that Henry had a case of viral meningitis. He was still unconscious, but it was partly because of the medicine, and they expect him to be in the ICU for several more days. It looks like he'll recover, though.
I'm so relieved that it looks like everyone will eventually recover. But I still wonder...how many people today suffer needlessly? Why is it so hard to take care of ourselves?
If you're reading this, TAKE GOOD CARE OF YOURSELF! Good health is priceless. I'll never understand why people, especially men, think they're invincible and that beer is just as good a multivitamin as any. As one who's grown up with several diseases, it infuriates me to see perfectly healthy people take their health for granted.
Swallow your pride, people. While you're at it, swallow a few vitamins with OJ!
posted by The mini ninja at 9:32 PM
6 Comments:
wow, oh wow.
I was just getting caught up with my blogs, and as I sat down reading yours I was sipping from a glass of orange juice and taking my vitamin. Seriously.
Oh sweets, get better wishes for Jason and your family. I will say prayers.
Jason: GET BETTER. Be good!
xoxxx
oh Leslie! good health is such a blessing and too often we forget that. Thanks for the reminder and I will be praying for your family and friends.
You guys have been through the ringer lately, haven't you?
Tell Jason I hope he feels better soon. All men are terrible patients, they usually appreciate your efforts after they are better. It gives you practice for kids, who are the same way. Although most of my kids are better than my husband.
I suck at being a patient too, I don't know who Im kidding. Take your viatmins, sweetie, so you're not next.
Vicki
Wow. Sheesh! Blessings on your family and friends! I'm praying for you all!
Thank you for all your prayer! Travis is out of the woods. He'll be in the hospital for a while yet, but he's alive! Thank God.
My cousin Henry is now awake and talking. The doctors can't believe he got better so fast! He MIGHT even be able to spend Christmas with us.
Jason is slowly but surely getting better. He's going back to work (outside in the freezing cold) tomorrow which neither of us are happy about, but he has to go back. Sigh. That big dumb man. Too bad for me, I love that big dumb head to give up on him! (And he's gradually becoming more tolerable, thank goodness.)
I couldn't help but wonder what would come of hanging around someone that sick in the hospital with such proximity (not that you SHOULDN'T have; I just think about everything). That's mainly why hospitals worry me. There I'll be, my torso laid wide open, with all SORTS of random carriers of various germies strolling by. At least it sounds like a happy ending is in order for you.
And the only thing I suffer from on a regular basis is not having anything interesting to blog about. I'm not funny or exciting or interesting or thought provoking. I don't think anybody reads that thing anymore. Your life has mine beaten in the "exciting and fun" category, hands down.
Gab At Les
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