I'm so alone
I never realized until a few days ago, how alone I am in the world. I don't ever talk to anyone who isn't related to me. I don't have a single friend, except for my sister. And she's not always the easiest person to talk to.
There's nothing quite like sitting all alone in the emergency room's waiting room, all alone, and being overjoyed to see your father show up. Because suddenly there's a shoulder to lean on. Not having a friend to call, to sit with you.. it's so sad.
Ok this is what happened. It was Monday. The whole family was home. Me and Katie were watching tv and Dominic and Jodie were running around playing. Weston was on the computer. Typical day at our house. Out of nowhere Weston says, "Honey, I have a problem". He turns around and his face is totally red. His ears were purple. It was like all the blood in his body was rushing to his head and staying there. He tells me he can't breathe and that his heart is racing. And he has to get to the bathroom. He tries to get up and he falls to the floor, bringing the vaccuum down on top of him. He's a big guy, I can't help him get up. He gets to the bathroom on his own, then goes and collapses on our bed. It was the closest place to fall down, I guess. I call 911. He's panting and hardly breathing and then starts having convulsions. He's drooling. I'm totally panicing. I'm thinking he's going to die right then and there and there is nothing I can do about it. I call Grandma and ask her to come get the kids, it's an emergency. The paramedics come, finally. They seemed to take forever. Weston manages to walk down the hall, with their help and gets on the stretcher. I'm still totally in a panic, but it was like I was functioning outside of my panic. I told Weston I'd meet him at the hospital, but I had to settle the kids and make sure they would be ok. I figured he was in good hands, paramedics know what to do. So I got the kids back in the house, had Katie gather some things for them, locked up the house and left them there to wait for grandma to come and get them. I followed the ambulance to the hospital and then waited. And waited and waited some more. I had no idea what was going on with Weston. He was back in the emergency room patient area and I was in the waiting room. Finally, about 2 hours later, one of the paramedics came out and told me he was doing ok and they were still waiting for him to be put into a room.
It was about 9 pm when Dad showed up. I wasn't actually all that surprised to see him, which when I think of my relationship with him, is odd. But Dad is the 'show-up guy' when the shit hits the fan. He sat with me, and I told him what I knew about what was going on with Weston, which was basically nothing. Then Dad just talked. One thing about Dad, he can always talk. And he can usually make me laugh, even when that's the last thing I want to do. We went out and smoked and he helped me to stop stressing, as much as anyone could have.
About an hour after Dad showed up, I finally got called from the waiting room. Weston finally got put in a room and I could go see him. He was okay. Good enough to be complaining anyway. They were running tests and drawing blood. Whatever was wrong was not immediately obvious to them. But the doctor insisted he stay overnight, so they could do more tests in the morning. Boy did Weston put up a fight about that! But he got convinced to stay.
Little did he know that he'd have to stay yet another night after that. Poor guy, I felt bad for him. Hospital food and no smoking. But I figured, hey, if they could find out what was wrong, keep him. It's worth it.
Turns out, he had a TIA (a mini-stroke, in less technical terms). Now I'm all about changing his diet, making sure he keeps in touch while he's working.. and working my ass off to do my schooling as quickly and as well as I can, so I can start making money, so he doesn't have to work so hard. TIA's lead to real strokes which cause brain damage, and real heart attacks that cause death. And that would be bad. I'd like to have my husband around for at least 30 more years.
There's nothing quite like sitting all alone in the emergency room's waiting room, all alone, and being overjoyed to see your father show up. Because suddenly there's a shoulder to lean on. Not having a friend to call, to sit with you.. it's so sad.
Ok this is what happened. It was Monday. The whole family was home. Me and Katie were watching tv and Dominic and Jodie were running around playing. Weston was on the computer. Typical day at our house. Out of nowhere Weston says, "Honey, I have a problem". He turns around and his face is totally red. His ears were purple. It was like all the blood in his body was rushing to his head and staying there. He tells me he can't breathe and that his heart is racing. And he has to get to the bathroom. He tries to get up and he falls to the floor, bringing the vaccuum down on top of him. He's a big guy, I can't help him get up. He gets to the bathroom on his own, then goes and collapses on our bed. It was the closest place to fall down, I guess. I call 911. He's panting and hardly breathing and then starts having convulsions. He's drooling. I'm totally panicing. I'm thinking he's going to die right then and there and there is nothing I can do about it. I call Grandma and ask her to come get the kids, it's an emergency. The paramedics come, finally. They seemed to take forever. Weston manages to walk down the hall, with their help and gets on the stretcher. I'm still totally in a panic, but it was like I was functioning outside of my panic. I told Weston I'd meet him at the hospital, but I had to settle the kids and make sure they would be ok. I figured he was in good hands, paramedics know what to do. So I got the kids back in the house, had Katie gather some things for them, locked up the house and left them there to wait for grandma to come and get them. I followed the ambulance to the hospital and then waited. And waited and waited some more. I had no idea what was going on with Weston. He was back in the emergency room patient area and I was in the waiting room. Finally, about 2 hours later, one of the paramedics came out and told me he was doing ok and they were still waiting for him to be put into a room.
It was about 9 pm when Dad showed up. I wasn't actually all that surprised to see him, which when I think of my relationship with him, is odd. But Dad is the 'show-up guy' when the shit hits the fan. He sat with me, and I told him what I knew about what was going on with Weston, which was basically nothing. Then Dad just talked. One thing about Dad, he can always talk. And he can usually make me laugh, even when that's the last thing I want to do. We went out and smoked and he helped me to stop stressing, as much as anyone could have.
About an hour after Dad showed up, I finally got called from the waiting room. Weston finally got put in a room and I could go see him. He was okay. Good enough to be complaining anyway. They were running tests and drawing blood. Whatever was wrong was not immediately obvious to them. But the doctor insisted he stay overnight, so they could do more tests in the morning. Boy did Weston put up a fight about that! But he got convinced to stay.
Little did he know that he'd have to stay yet another night after that. Poor guy, I felt bad for him. Hospital food and no smoking. But I figured, hey, if they could find out what was wrong, keep him. It's worth it.
Turns out, he had a TIA (a mini-stroke, in less technical terms). Now I'm all about changing his diet, making sure he keeps in touch while he's working.. and working my ass off to do my schooling as quickly and as well as I can, so I can start making money, so he doesn't have to work so hard. TIA's lead to real strokes which cause brain damage, and real heart attacks that cause death. And that would be bad. I'd like to have my husband around for at least 30 more years.
posted by sunflower | 11:07 PM
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