Fear
Last weekend, early Sunday morning, I woke up to hear my wife snoring loudly enough to be annoying. I jiggled her which is usually enough to make her stop. Not this time. I tried to go back asleep; failed; and eventually tried again to quiet her. No luck. I tried harder, jostling harder and harder, turned on the lights, and talking to her. Her eyes half opened, but didn’t seem to be tracking. I decided to call 911. I put on my pants and went upstairs, so as not to bother our room-mate - good thinking that
. They wanted me to put her on a hard surface, which I went downstairs and did, that being the floor, which was cold. That caused a response. Although still non-verbal she wanted not to be there, and tried to get herself up, which we weren’t able to do. I left her in the care of my now awakened room-mate, sitting against the bed, while I went upstairs, totally forgetting that we had several phones (including a portable) downstairs. 911 told me to do something, which I no longer remember, and I went downstairs to do it, about which time the EMTs arrived in two ambulances and a fire engine.
From this point on, I was answering questions about her health, prescription drugs, and how many she had taken. Eventually one of the EMTs counted out her one prescription and determined that she had likely not overdosed. In the mean time I had ventured into the bedroom where the head EMT had asked if she knew who I was, to which she didn’t respond. I could not usefully stay.
They got her back onto the bed, by this time having apparently checked all her vitals, and not finding anything, They/I walked her to the front porch before putting her on the gurney. She commented that I needed to put on shoes and socks as we walked out on the front porch. She doesn’t remember that, or much else before that except a bunch of black legs that belonged to the firemen.
She does remember being in the ambulance, and by the time she got to the hospital she was able to tell who was the president, but not what day it was. She obviously was bothered by that, and when later asked decisively told them what day it was. They did blood work, a urine test, a cat scan with no results. The doctor decided that she had had a possible seizure and sent us home about 5AM. By this time Nicole was lucid, if surprisingly unconcerned about her circumstances.
Over the last week, she had an appointment with her regular physician, an EEG, and an appointment with a neurologist. No results. She has a MRI and a sleep test scheduled. I’m beginning to suspect sleep apnea, but to a degree that’s scary. Her neurologist is agnostic about the issue of the seizure which means she can still drive.
Reality, whatever it is, is a strange thing.
Nicole in the Vatican
Originally published at my other blog: You might think that... You can comment here or there.