2000
| November 18, 2000 I went to Houston for only 36 hours.....because of my son's contracting spinal meningitis - he became disoriented but they (both boys) wanted me to stay as of Thursday. Because of course I called back every day. On Friday morning - the doctor had me found - and told me to come home. They gave him a 50-50 chance. The doctor was scared. That terrified me. The staff at the RT convention were kept busy holding me together (bailing wire) and changing my flight and packing my suitcase. Skip and Pepper took me to the airport. Troy loaded my luggage in the car. Since I had to wait for a 5:30 flight they had me eat something (I was focused on being focused) and Kathryn Falk had me drink a glass of wine. I didn't feel it. I sat in the plane for 45 minutes waiting for mechanics to finish paperwork. Then the pilot flew like a bat out of hell and made up the time - until we got to Oakland air space which was crowded and that slowed us down. I made the hospital - driving like a bat out of hell. My baby could not breathe on his own. They had no prognosis. My older son and I swapped hours off - I would go sleep - then he would. Until he got a fever and I was left on my own. I slept in sleep chairs in a room crowded with other parents. I slept on a cot in the conference room. I still needed to come home every 36 hours to feed the animals and shower. I grabbed my computer from work and took it with me because I was still trying to focus on being focused. Finally, today, with 110 books to ship to Ingram and 50 calendars ordered by two bookstores packed and in the trunk of my car, I came in and they said he woke up last night - was agitated - and they drugged him back out. He's been struggling to the surface for days. This morning they pulled the tube. He had awoken and grabbed my hand, I talked to him, where he was, not to struggle, why his hands were tied, that he could just pee because he had a condom cath on (he thought he would wet his pants), where he was, how many days, etc. His eyes were looking at me. He was nodding. He tried to talk - with a tube we couldn't tell. He was frustrated at that. They pulled the tube while I held his hand and he is now breathing on his own. He's been rolled from one side to another to get him off his back. He has space boots - leggings that ggo up and down to move his legs. He has a very expensive airbed - in rotation mode. It shifts pressure points. It goes up and down. It tilts. It has turn assist. I want one. I threatened to climb up in it with him. He has trouble being heard - low whisper. I have to lean way over to hear him. It's tiring for him to talk. He is a little disoriented. Strange people. Strange place. Thought his leg was cut off. Thought the nurse was trying to put in an IV - she was straightening lines. They gave him methadone to help the withdrawal. And a few other drugs. He slept. They sent me home to rest. I was falling out of the chair. He's coming down off 9 days of heavy morphine. So heavy they had to use dopamine to keep his blood pressure up. Plus other drugs. It will be awhile before we know how he is. He still pitched a fever - it will be 21 days of antibodies to fight this. The health department is going to check out the probable source for the infection - a fast food place that makes smoothies with fresh fruit. Something about improper handling. Two locations. But his sense of the ridiculous is there. When asked who I was --- he told the nurse I was his wife. He was rolling his eyes when he did this. Because he thought the question stupid. After 9 days of hell, I needed the laugh. |
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