Well, it’s been an interesting week. Will has been sick with nausea and vomiting almost since he began a new cancer drug three months ago, and now we’ve thrown low blood sugar into the merry mix. Finally, he reached a crisis point where he became disoriented and even somewhat combative, fell in the driveway, and I had to call 911. He should’ve been admitted to the hospital right then; instead the ER gave him some fluids, anti-nausea medications, and a bit of sugar water and called it good before sending him home with me.
Next day he was supposed to have an MRI, but by that time he was so weak that he couldn’t tolerate the procedure even though he was lying down. The MRI tech was so worried about Will that he called the oncologist, who told my son and me to get Will to a different hospital ASAP. He was seriously dehydrated, and his blood sugar was so low that he could have slipped into a coma and died. Thankfully he’s as tough as they come…I’ve seen my share of people in similar circumstances who didn’t make it. But after only two days in the hospital (and discontinuation of the cancer med that was making him sick) he felt well enough to come home, and today he’s almost back to normal.
To say the least, it’s been hard to stay calm and cool during all this. I have been so worried about Will that I couldn’t maintain my customary clinical distance; I’m just the wife and suddenly it feels like I know nothing about “medical stuff”. I have to check his blood sugar every morning at 4 AM and we’ve learned very quickly that it tanks around that hour and he must eat. This makes neither of us happy, but we don’t want a repeat of the festivities! We’re leaving for our trip in 17 days and there have been times I was uncertain if we were going to make it. I’m still not sure we will. But we’re certainly going to do whatever we can to make it happen.
Obviously, my own illness has had to take a backseat to all this, and in a way I’m glad of it. I can’t very well think about being depressed when my dearly beloved is in trouble. He is my everything and I’m not ready to be without him. I’ve cried more in the past week than in the past year. The nights when he was in the hospital were long and lonely, and more than once I pictured myself spending the rest of my nights without hearing him snore or worrying that my cough is keeping him awake. I know that time is coming…but I’m not ready for it, even though I know it’s getting late in the game, it’s fourth down and long, and we have no real chance of winning.
In the meantime, he is sitting in his favorite chair in the living room watching a funny show on TV, grinning and laughing occasionally, just like on any of a thousand evenings we’ve spent together in our long marriage. His cackling is music to my ears. He looks much better, his sugars have been decent today, and it’s been more than 36 hours since he last threw up. It’s all good…for now anyway.