I had a long list of things to work on and accomplish, but that was sent to a crashing standstill as I was taking care of a very sick wife. When you realize someone is so sick and they are not quite sick enough for the hospital, but they are too sick for being at home…. with cancer patients it is called hospice…with people that are simply really sick that don’t’ qualify to be admitted because the lung butter index (my sexy name for pneumonia or bronchial crud that flops around when the patient coughs) or the temperature is not at high enough level for the patient to die.
“Go home, drink fluids and allow the feeling that a freight train is repeatedly running over you to slowly subside.”
What can I say; I probably have the worst bedside manner. I blame it on American football. You simply played with pain or hurt all the time. Part was because you enjoyed the game; the other part was there were always a lot of people wanting your spot. So until the injury really impeded your ability, you played.
When I heard my wife crying in pain, frustrated with the bouts of wanting to sleep, not being comfortable, and the world of what I am calling the “dynamic migraine” that seemed to roll around like a marble in her skull – you know in your heart, “this person is in a lot of pain, just make them comfortable”
The ironic part is at times like that; there is nothing you can do to make anything better. So you just hold them. Somehow, that does help make them better. SO that has been my sabbatical for the past few days. Hopefully I don’t get sick either, but this has been going on long enough that whatever incubation there was, I have gone through.
My fun has been making “whatever soup” to play chemist with my wife, who is very stubborn and doesn’t’ want to do the things like hydrate, get sodium, sugar and liquids in her body. I realize when it feels like you have been run over by a train, you don’t’ really have the ability to get up, but the doctor didn’t give me an IV to shove liquids in…. so the perpetual game of tea with honey, coke, “whatever soup”, or water? Is played over and over…. 24/7So I leave her alone, she doesn’t want to be alone. She just peeked in the room, even my old basset hound Emily could not impersonate the pair of eyes I have looking at me. So sad. No words needed to say, “I am sick, hold me.”
“Paging doctor Mark, patient needs hug. Paging doctor Mark, patient needs hug.”
My old Bassett hound was much simpler when she was sick. “Want a piece of cheese? Ice cream cone? Pizza?”
Now that I think about it, Emily sure was sickly a lot of the time? Hmm…smart dog!