Dept. of How We Learn New Words
Human Metapneumovirus
This is what we're told Bob's got. There's apparently no magic bullet cure, just as there isn't for a lot of viruses, so the thing to do with HMPV is apparently just ... get through it. And of course, while it's normally not serious, for kids, older folks and folks with various levels of immunodeficiency it can be really serious. And guess who fits into both slots? Bob. (I fit in, too, but I've lived with him for weeks and I'm 99 percent confident I'm not getting any serious version of it.) Once all the nurses, aides, etc. started gowning- masking- and gloving-up to come in, we figured it was nothing to sneeze at. As it were.
Because Bob's extremely weak (like, they're not letting him sit in a chair unless there's a staff person on hand, and as for making it to the bathroom? Ha!) he's going to be in here another night. His physical therapist would like him to be sent to a rehab place for a couple of days because he needs to relearn how to breathe properly, and regain his strength in general. His hospitalist doctor (real term for a doctor whose focus is solely on hospitalized patients) told him earlier today that she'd like to get him out of the hospital, but we don't know what the upshot will be after the doc and the therapist manage to talk.
My boss threw me for a loop, in a very positive way, when I sent him my morning email. I told him I'd try to get a story in to him before 2 p.m., and updated him on Bob's situation, which at that point didn't have a name, and was somewhat worse than it was at the time of my previous report. I said I'd take time off after I sent the story over. He told me just to take the whole day off, that we didn't need that story. I'm beginning to understand the guy a bit better, but still ... he kind of whipsaws me.
I spent 5 hours at the hospital with Bob, which did wonders for me, and he seemed to be happy that I was there. Now I'm home; I'm going to brush my teeth, give Bob a call at the hospital, and go to bed.
This entry was originally posted at https://kaffyr.dreamwidth.org/695041.html?mode=reply, where there are currently
comments. You can comment there or here, but prefer to read over on DW. You can comment there using open ID if you don't have a DW account.
This is what we're told Bob's got. There's apparently no magic bullet cure, just as there isn't for a lot of viruses, so the thing to do with HMPV is apparently just ... get through it. And of course, while it's normally not serious, for kids, older folks and folks with various levels of immunodeficiency it can be really serious. And guess who fits into both slots? Bob. (I fit in, too, but I've lived with him for weeks and I'm 99 percent confident I'm not getting any serious version of it.) Once all the nurses, aides, etc. started gowning- masking- and gloving-up to come in, we figured it was nothing to sneeze at. As it were.
Because Bob's extremely weak (like, they're not letting him sit in a chair unless there's a staff person on hand, and as for making it to the bathroom? Ha!) he's going to be in here another night. His physical therapist would like him to be sent to a rehab place for a couple of days because he needs to relearn how to breathe properly, and regain his strength in general. His hospitalist doctor (real term for a doctor whose focus is solely on hospitalized patients) told him earlier today that she'd like to get him out of the hospital, but we don't know what the upshot will be after the doc and the therapist manage to talk.
My boss threw me for a loop, in a very positive way, when I sent him my morning email. I told him I'd try to get a story in to him before 2 p.m., and updated him on Bob's situation, which at that point didn't have a name, and was somewhat worse than it was at the time of my previous report. I said I'd take time off after I sent the story over. He told me just to take the whole day off, that we didn't need that story. I'm beginning to understand the guy a bit better, but still ... he kind of whipsaws me.
I spent 5 hours at the hospital with Bob, which did wonders for me, and he seemed to be happy that I was there. Now I'm home; I'm going to brush my teeth, give Bob a call at the hospital, and go to bed.
This entry was originally posted at https://kaffyr.dreamwidth.org/695041.html?mode=reply, where there are currently
comments. You can comment there or here, but prefer to read over on DW. You can comment there using open ID if you don't have a DW account.