Atomictumor

The surgery came and went, and nothing was found.  Well, I mean, GAC had a gall bladder, a stomach, a lot of intestines, probably a colon, two or three spleens, etc, but no reason why a 29 year old otherwise healthy wife and mother of two would be dying so sick.

We’ve had a handful of doctors show up, scratch their heads, throw up their hands, and tell me they don’t know.  While candor is refreshing, and while I’m sure GAC appreciates being such an interesting case, its not helping her.  E. Coli has come up as a possible suspect.

Whats happening is that she’s still in acute renal failure, her vital signs have been plunging, her BP is at 80 even with the blood thinners and mounds of mounds of medicine in her. She has something in her heart that’s monitoring stuff.  She is bloated, connected, tubed, and medicated.  She’s on a ventilator, which I’m told she can enjoy the use of for the next few weeks if she makes it through the night.

I’m functioning, after a brief moment of weakness that resulted in attacking the roof of the parking garage (we’re friends now), because I need to be.  I’m a dad, I have my boys home, and I’m keeping them here.  Thankfully, my Mom is up from the Blueberry Farm, and helping me.  That, and the leftover chinese food from earlier… I haven’t eaten since that post.

But if I drop that resolve, that wall of cynical humor, and start to think about the fact that my raison d’etre is profoundly sick, that nurses are telling me that her vitals can’t support life for long, that I told my 9 year old son as lightly as I could that his mother might die, that, despite HOW HARD I TRY NOT TO I can’t help figureing out how I’d word her obiturary on this stupid web page because I might just need to, I start to break down.

Theres a long way to go in that direction.  I’m not going to do it now, tho.

Everybody, I can’t think you enough for your support and offers of help, and kind words.  I won’t need any help, and I probably won’t answer my cellphone (don’t want to tie the line up) but the fact that you all have her in your hearts and prayers and thoughts means that you are all the greatest…

I love you, GAC.  I’ll see you soon, angel.

Hi all,

AT just phoned with an update on GAC, and she is not doing well. They performed an exploratory surgery a little earlier, which turned up no clues as to the cause of her illness. She remains in very critical condition, and it’s just not looking good.

I don’t consider myself a religious person, but prayer is a good thing, and I’m sure that GAC, AT, MastaG and Pigpen would appreciate a bunch of it right now.

And go hug your loved ones while you’re at it.

The Chinese were industrious people.  I am eating their comfort food, and its doing some good.

Yum.  Wish GAC liked it, I bet if she did this whole thing could have been avoided…

Actually, I just remembered a nurse last night asking if she ate Chinese, because she could have severe case of food poisoning.  Hey, if I eat it, mebbe I can join her at the CCU?

Nobody knows whats going on.  She’s got a nice CCU doctor, who has used the phrase “very, very sick” instead of the previous doc’s “serious” and “life-threatening”.

We know she has septic shock, that her BP and pulse and what not are all still the same (low and high, respectively) as before.  I saw her last at around 11, and the girls in pain.  Her abdomen hurts most, but all of her muscles hurt.  I’ve never seen her in this much pain before.

Yum, chinese.  And the minds ability to rationalize.  Good stuff, all.

Guys, this is really, really, really hard.  I was trying to use humor up in the room with her, as they asked me to take off her wedding ring in case her fingers swell and they have to cut it off, by asking her casually for a divorce.  I also pointed out that the x’s on her feet look like stigmatas, and wondered what a singular stigmata is.

The nurse thought it was funny.  I’m still wearing GAC’s ring.

For all of you asking, thanks, I don’t think we need any help.  GAC’s folks are at the hospital now, and I have 30 minutes to go before the next visitation period is allowed.  I’m thinking about bringing MastaG here, because he’s homesick and old enough to understand whats going on, while Pigpen is enjoying the fact that the in-laws have cable.

I’ll keep you posted.  Enjoy your health.

That last one was a sleepy, nervous wreck post, wasn’t it?  At least now I’m not sleepy, thanks.

Called the hospital, GACs in the same boat.  Her BP is still nice and low, and her heart rate is still nice and high.  They’re chucking some blood thinner her way, and plan on laying down an ultrasound on her legs to make sure that she doesn’t have a blood clot.  While I didn’t talk to her, I’m positive that she didn’t have any kind of decent sleep (because evidently like wi-fi, it is unnecessary to the recuperative processes.  Who knew?)

As a result of our wonder twin powers, I find myself powerless and aimless when she’s not around like this, so I wandered into work.  Visiting hours aren’t until 10 today, so there isn’t much I can do till then.

How’re you guys?

Hospitals.

They suck the life out of you.

I don’t have much in the way of resolve, or humor, or any kind of emotion right now. Heres what I emailed to my parents a second ago:

Thanks for the flowers. They came as GAC was being moved from her room into a step down room where they can monitor her because her bp was staying too low. Her pulse is around 150 and bp is bottoming out at 83/33 and topping around 100/40. I had to leave, but they were kind enough to let me stay longer than the allowed visiting hours of 10 - 10:30. Pulse ox levels keep dropping below 90, which makes the machine beep in anger.

Its pure hell. The room is bright as hell, theres all sorts of beeps, theres a senile old man across a certain that had a bedpan bowel movement shortly after her arrival, and the nurses call everybody ‘honey’. The bp armband tightens every 50 minutes, she has to wear an oxygen mask because the nose things were too uncomfortable, and her throat is killing her.

There. I’m too tired to explain all that again.

So, things are worse than before, and they booted me out.

I can count the number of times I’ve slept alone since March of 1996 on one hand. Tonights another finger.

What I haven’t said is what the cause of this is. Well, they’re not sure. Word around the campfire is maybe diverticulitis, which I remembered by saying:

Diver Tick a Lite-us.

Don’t let me be old and die in a hospital.

Don’t let me be old and die in a hospital.

Don’t let me be old and die in a hospital.

Seriously, 50 in a race car is fine with me.

Night. Thanks for staying up with us.

GAC, I love you.