I cried silent tears for about an hour this morning. They started rolling down my cheeks shortly after Barry left the emergency room bay where Michael was sleeping peacefully following the flurry of seizures we couldn't control late last evening. It was our second emergency call in a week that also included surgical replacement of Michael's VNS. So... I'm tired - and a tad more vulnerable than usual. So...when the two young neurologists entered the room and began to ask the usual questions and Michael performed A+ on his neurological exam; well --- I just sat here answering questions and watching Michael with tears streaming down my face.
Screw it, I thought. Then, screaming inside while the tears plopped onto my sweatshirt- fix him!!!! God dammit, fix him this time!
When the firemen and paramedics arrived last night I noted several familiar faces. Surely we have met them all, this being the 6th emergency call in seven months. As usual, they were professional, proficient, courteous and caring. As usual, I hated that we had to make the call- that we needed them at all. Note to self-
write the chief and drop some goodies at the station.
Michael's epileptologist dropped by. She's thinking we need to try a different emergency med. Maybe a specially compounded oral gel version of Versed or something similar. Fine. I want to avoid these ER visits. But......
Why can't we figure out why this is happening?
Why?
Why?
Why?
They must be sick of us I think. I wonder if there's questions about compliance with treatment. After all , Michael's a "frequent flyer" in the Emergency Room and many patients with that label stop taking their medications or have poor follow- through,resulting in more frequent emergency room visits. Perhaps that explains the call from an ER nurse yesterday. She wanted to know how he was doing since the ER visit LAST week and if we had seen any medical provider since. I relayed that in fact we had. He had a surgical procedure on Friday to replace his VNS I explained, and added that I hoped that would keep us out of the ER for a while.
Hahahahaha she laughs hysterically--
a mere 12
hours later. We're baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!
I drove Barry's car home from the hospital last night. I crushed the oil pans that are usually under it as I pulled into the garage. I left the car, closed the garage and fell into bed. This morning I woke up early to get here and relieve Barry. I crushed the pans again on my way out. Once here, we had change of shift report and he pecked me on the cheek. " I ran over your oil pans and I don't give a shit". Silence. A look. He left---not mad of course, but probably not happy I didn't realign those damn pans. Only Meaghan gets how funny this really is--- so I called her. We had one of those hearty, guttural, disproportionate to the story kind of laughs. And that's when tears turned to laughter and all was a little bit better with the world.
