I'm scared out of my mind and I can't do anything about it.
Ok... everything was pretty much fine until last night. As you know, a few days ago, Nate was having intestinal problems that we figured were gas and some diarrhea, right? That's how it stayed pretty much up until yesterday evening, around 9:00.
Nate's annoying intestinal feelings became a nagging discomfort. An odd sensitivity in the lower right corner of his abdomen between his navel and his right pelvic bone (this is commonly known as the area where the appendix lies in the body). After a while of it being annoying and uncomfortable, he finally got his mother to take him into the doctor... unfortunately, seeing as it was late as it was... we ended up being referred to the hospital, and had to go into the emergency entrance because the main one was closed.
We go in after Nate was writhing in the car all along the way, whereas I'm sitting in the back seat, silent with worry and thinking the worst... namely, the most prominent thought to cross my mind was, "Please let it be minor... please don't let it hurt him... please don't take him away from me. Two years together just isn't enough." I was holding back tears and sobs the entire ride.
We get out and go into the waiting room (I find it horribly sickening and ironic that there should be a waiting room in the emergency wing of a hospital, but whatever). We tell the reception nurse, fill out the paperwork and they take Nate's temperature (it read something around 97.8 or so... normal for him, really) and his pulse with that finger clamp thing. Then, they asked him the usual questions about his symptoms, the duration of them, changes in them recently, his diet, his bowel movements, his discomfort level and location, etc. All the while, I'm just kind of doing anything I can while I stand by him to keep from losing it. Even though he's in slightly better shape that he was, I'm not too good when I'm scared like that.
Anyway, that done, he has to go to the next room and talk to the lady about the insurance information and his medical history/doctors. He does, with the help of Pat, and then we go sit in the waiting room while Pat talks with the second woman, since she knows her from her former candle store job at Yankee Candle.
Then, some ugly woman who looked like a Filipino mix came in in a hurry and was frantically huffing, "Someone! Help! My daughter is in labor! She's in labor! In my car! Help, please!"
So, they wheeled out a wheelchair to go get the daughter.
Nate and I just kinda sit there, I'm fiddling around, feeling neurotic from the situation with Nate and the fact that I can't stand hospitals... I can't stand how they're full of sick people and full of the contagins of sick people that could potentially make me sick. I'm afraid to touch anything, even the tissue box I saw on the table next to me was off limits.
Eventually, Pat comes and sits next to me and we chat lightly. Nate's condition improved a bit during that time.
Then, they wheel in the rather small-bellied girl who was going into labor. She was even more ugly than her mother and Pat and I made cracks about her kid and about her potential profession. It wouldn't be until we were leaving and saw the mother again that we would find out that she was only six months pregnant and was hit in the stomach some how during a spat with her boyfriend and it caused her to start the labor process. We then talked to each other about how the baby would most likely be miscarried or stillborn. Sad as it is.
Anyway... they called Nate in and we all went in with him. They put him in a room and he changed into one of those charming hospital gowns. He was then instructed to lay down on the bed, and he did... and then... they asked him questions and all that and I don't really remember if he got the I.V. first or the belly examination.
I'll say it was I.V. first. So... first, a paramedic trainee comes in with the needs and whatnot for the I.V. and blood drawing and goes into his 'I'm a trainee, I need to practice on you in the presence of a nurse, is that alright or no?' bit. Pat, being the protective mother she is, says no. She, nor do I, does not trust a trainee to stick a needle into the veins of her son. So, she tells the nurse, who says that's fine... makes a joke about Nate being her first I.V. and preps his hand for it.
Nate's been through this before. He's had surgery to remove his gallbladder. Three years ago, actually. He was anxious as it was, and the fact that he was afraid of the chance that his problem might be serious, and the fact that he hated hospitals... where he was now about to get another horrid I.V., kinda triggered him.
He began to freak out... rubbing his free hand on his face, covering his eyes, breathing heavily, puffing his breath a lot, chanting about how much he hated it and trembling. His teeth chattered, his legs trembled and his hands couldn't settle down. She even had to wait a few seconds for him to calm his right arm enough for her to do anything with it.
I held his free hand and stroked his hair in a vain effort to try and pacify him even a little. I felt more and more frantic because I didn't seem to be helping and I couldn't stand seeing him like that. Pat didn't look like she enjoyed it, either.
Once the I.V. needle went in, Nate was growling. Forced, gutteral puffs of exhalation. He really, really hated it and, though I've never had one, I've heard I.V.'s hurt like a motherfucker when they're first put in.
She drew blood... about three vials of it, from the I.V. cathater. Then, she flushed it and put him on a liter drip of saline solution to hydrate him. Doctor's orders. After that, he was uncomfortable from the cold sensation of the drip, but calmed considerably once he adjusted.
Next, the doctor came in. Well, the main one who was on duty that night. He wasn't Nate's usual doctor, or his surgeon from his gallbladder surgery... he was a colleague of sorts. He asked some questions about the usual stuff and gave Nate an abdominal exam, to see if the area in question was painful when pressed, to see if he perhaps had a hernia of some sort, and to see if the abdomen was hard at all, which would give hint to impacted colon, blockage, tumor, internal bleeding and possibly a bad infection or gas buildup. He said that Nate had a 'soft belly', which was a good thing... and then said he would be back after the tests were all complete and he got the results.
From there, we waited a bit. Things de-escalated for us and we talked. We lightened the mood and calmed our nerves with some light jokes and whatnot, just to ease our minds a bit. I got up every so often to give Nate a small kiss or pet his hair or something, just to help him settle more. He shifted in the bed, poked at the tape holding his I.V. in place because it was pulling one of the hairs on his hand, and farted a few times.
Then, a technician type guy came in and said he was to go to x-ray (to try to find any masses or blockages in his abdomen anywhere). He wheeled him out on the bed and he was gone for a while. Atleast, I think that happened next. I'm pretty sure. Sorry, it's all a bit of a blur right now. :\
Anyhow... while he was gone, I just kinda sat around and looked at the protruding veins in my hands and fingers. My hands always do that when I'm upset, so it was no wonder it was happening then. Pat paced a bit before deciding to go get some drinks for me and her and to update Nate's father on the situation. I said ok, she told me to make sure to watch her bag, and she left. I basically just watched the people walk by and do their thing... remarking mentally about how different this scene was from the ER and Trauma center shows on TV.
Eventually, Nate was wheeled back in and the guy put the footbrake on his bed and made his leave. Another guy, a male nurse with a bald head and a Boston-New York-Providence cross of an accent came in and delivered the good news... the first blood test didn't have readable results, so they needed more blood. Nate groaned and complained, thinking it'd be another I.V. extraction. The guy said he only needed his arm... and used a much smaller needle to extract two vials. Nate didn't hurt as much and didn't freak out nearly half as bad. I was relieved. He finished, made a few wise ass remarks about stuff and then left. Pat came back and Nate had to pee. They needed a sample, so the same bald guy lead him down the hall to go. Pat wandered out again and Nate returned later. The doctor came in to talk about the results afterward, but didn't want to talk without Pat there... so he left until she returned. She came back and he delivered the news:
The white blood cell count was low, showing no sign of the body needing to fight off an infection. This was part of ruling out appendicitis. The urinanalysis proved negative for kidney and bladder problems. His belly exam said there was nothing wrong there... and the x-ray revealed no sign of blockage, impaction or abnormal masses in Nate's abdomen. Since the spot of trouble didn't hurt when pressure was applied, the doctor said he couldn't figure out what was wrong...
So, he said it was Nate's choice to either stay the night for observation or to go home, rest and then see his regular doctor in the morning. Nate, of course, chose to go home. So, all that done, we finally start to leave with Nate getting dressed and us thanking everyone who helped us and gathering our things.
We leave, talk to the mother of the pregnant girl and drive home. Nate goes to bed, as do I. This is why I've been on so little lately.
Come morning, I'm woken up to Pat knocking on the door. I was naked, so I wrapped myself in a blanket quickly and answer the door. she's on the step by the door and there's a huge puddle in the little 'hallway' between our door and the other side of the basement's door. She tells me that she needs to see Nate and take him into the doctor's and that she doesn't know why the water's there. We both hear water running somewhere nearby and she goes to get Paul. Turns out, the septic tank overflowed in the other side of the basement. It leaked under the 'hallway' wall and go onto the floor there. It didn't get into our room, though, until we had to walk through it with out sandals on to get upstairs and then back into the room.
All in all, there's some drama. We mop up the water near and in the doorway of our room. I take my new doormat out to dry out. Paul goes to get a sump pump to clear out the septic a bit and Pat and Nate get a ride to the doctor's from a friend of Pat's who was over at the house.
I go online a short while and stay off AIM while they're gone. I play some RO to distract myself and Nate returns with iced coffee for both of us. Everything is relatively fine for a while. The doctor said it was probably a stomach virus that Nate's body fought off for a while, but it go stuck in that corner of his intestine and that's why it was generalized. This sounded fishy to me from the start, but he's a doctor, so he would know, right?? Pfft.
Anyway, Nate lays on the couch, sipping his coffee and relaxing like he's supposed to and it eventually becomes pain. Acute, sharp, localised, intense pain. I go and tell Pat, who's still sitting in the car. She makes excuses about how she can't do anything and can't go back to the doctor until 4 pm and all this. Nate then comes up the stairs, clenching his stomach, whimpering with tears in his eyes, clenching his teeth. He says to her that it's really bad and he feels really nauseous.
I'm losing it by now, yelling to Pat to call the doctor again and tell him. Telling her that it's not just discomfort, that it's now PAIN. Finally, she does... and the doctor says to keep an eye on it until 4 pm and to call him back then.
This goes back and forth for a few hours before things start to calm down a bit.
Meanwhile, there's more drama... which involved me screaming at Paul and Pat, "I'M JUST HYSTERICAL RIGHT NOW, I'M SORRY." and, "IT'S NOT FINE IF HE'S IN PAIN LIKE THAT. THAT'S NOT FINE!!!" in response to people telling me 'it's alright'. Pat goes to drop Paul off at work once she calls Sal and tells him that Nate's been ordered to bed rest by his doctor and can't go to his driving lesson today. I'm torn apart. I feel like I can't stand it anymore... like I can't do anything and it's all falling apart. I'm scared to death that Nate's going to slip away from me at any moment and I won't be able to stop it. I curl into a ball on the couch while he's resting in the bed and sob my eyes out in fear and frustration... my mind can't help but wander to the possibility of him dying... and wondering what I would do if he did...
Nate rests. He says he feels better when he sits, as opposed to laying down, so I stick him in front of the computer and let him play games to take his mind off of it.
Pat calls several times and says she's going to get things to make homemade chicken soup and some supplies for him. Like pepto bismol for his diarrhea and any nausea he might get... and nyquil capsules so he can sleep well at night. I tell her that's fine and everything and keep an eye on Nate. Pat called out of work so we'd have her and the car here in case things got bad again... Nate made a slight recovery... no longer being in actual pain... and he pretty much stayed on the computer the rest of the day.
Pat was pretty frazzled from this as well and she finally came home with her cargo. Joshua and I unloaded the groceries and put them away... and Pat got the soup started. I pretty much made trips up and down the stairs to check on Nate and get things done around the house. Hannah makes a general ass of herself, as usual... and Pat goes to unwind in her room while the soup stock simmers. I whip up a batch of miracle gro for the plants and go around the house watering them with my IKEA watering can. This is the course of the night until the soup is done and we all eat.
Nate didn't have much appetite since the incident the night before. Actually, he didn't eat anything at all since then... but his appetite slowly returned once evening came, which was a very good sign. The pain hasn't returned since earlier today, so... things are looking up somewhat.
He ate, took a dose of nyquil and an antibiotic. He played a little while longer until he felt the need to go rest in bed. I helped him and tucked him in, giving him a shoulder massage to calm him down a bit more and he fell asleep. And, since I'm a little calmer now, if not drained... decided to keep all you posted on this so you'll know why neither me nor Nate will be on much in the next few days.
If things get worse or Nate ends up in the hospital for his appendix, I'll update you. If it clears up, I'll update about that, too.
I'm sorry he and I haven't really been interested in chatting... he's a bit anxious about all this and I'm frayed from worry and fear. I'm really at my wit's end... and there's nothing I can do. I love him so much and it hurts me and makes me feel useless and powerless to know I don't know what exactly is wrong and I don't know how to fix it.
I honestly can't say... what I would or could do... if I lost him...
Nate's annoying intestinal feelings became a nagging discomfort. An odd sensitivity in the lower right corner of his abdomen between his navel and his right pelvic bone (this is commonly known as the area where the appendix lies in the body). After a while of it being annoying and uncomfortable, he finally got his mother to take him into the doctor... unfortunately, seeing as it was late as it was... we ended up being referred to the hospital, and had to go into the emergency entrance because the main one was closed.
We go in after Nate was writhing in the car all along the way, whereas I'm sitting in the back seat, silent with worry and thinking the worst... namely, the most prominent thought to cross my mind was, "Please let it be minor... please don't let it hurt him... please don't take him away from me. Two years together just isn't enough." I was holding back tears and sobs the entire ride.
We get out and go into the waiting room (I find it horribly sickening and ironic that there should be a waiting room in the emergency wing of a hospital, but whatever). We tell the reception nurse, fill out the paperwork and they take Nate's temperature (it read something around 97.8 or so... normal for him, really) and his pulse with that finger clamp thing. Then, they asked him the usual questions about his symptoms, the duration of them, changes in them recently, his diet, his bowel movements, his discomfort level and location, etc. All the while, I'm just kind of doing anything I can while I stand by him to keep from losing it. Even though he's in slightly better shape that he was, I'm not too good when I'm scared like that.
Anyway, that done, he has to go to the next room and talk to the lady about the insurance information and his medical history/doctors. He does, with the help of Pat, and then we go sit in the waiting room while Pat talks with the second woman, since she knows her from her former candle store job at Yankee Candle.
Then, some ugly woman who looked like a Filipino mix came in in a hurry and was frantically huffing, "Someone! Help! My daughter is in labor! She's in labor! In my car! Help, please!"
So, they wheeled out a wheelchair to go get the daughter.
Nate and I just kinda sit there, I'm fiddling around, feeling neurotic from the situation with Nate and the fact that I can't stand hospitals... I can't stand how they're full of sick people and full of the contagins of sick people that could potentially make me sick. I'm afraid to touch anything, even the tissue box I saw on the table next to me was off limits.
Eventually, Pat comes and sits next to me and we chat lightly. Nate's condition improved a bit during that time.
Then, they wheel in the rather small-bellied girl who was going into labor. She was even more ugly than her mother and Pat and I made cracks about her kid and about her potential profession. It wouldn't be until we were leaving and saw the mother again that we would find out that she was only six months pregnant and was hit in the stomach some how during a spat with her boyfriend and it caused her to start the labor process. We then talked to each other about how the baby would most likely be miscarried or stillborn. Sad as it is.
Anyway... they called Nate in and we all went in with him. They put him in a room and he changed into one of those charming hospital gowns. He was then instructed to lay down on the bed, and he did... and then... they asked him questions and all that and I don't really remember if he got the I.V. first or the belly examination.
I'll say it was I.V. first. So... first, a paramedic trainee comes in with the needs and whatnot for the I.V. and blood drawing and goes into his 'I'm a trainee, I need to practice on you in the presence of a nurse, is that alright or no?' bit. Pat, being the protective mother she is, says no. She, nor do I, does not trust a trainee to stick a needle into the veins of her son. So, she tells the nurse, who says that's fine... makes a joke about Nate being her first I.V. and preps his hand for it.
Nate's been through this before. He's had surgery to remove his gallbladder. Three years ago, actually. He was anxious as it was, and the fact that he was afraid of the chance that his problem might be serious, and the fact that he hated hospitals... where he was now about to get another horrid I.V., kinda triggered him.
He began to freak out... rubbing his free hand on his face, covering his eyes, breathing heavily, puffing his breath a lot, chanting about how much he hated it and trembling. His teeth chattered, his legs trembled and his hands couldn't settle down. She even had to wait a few seconds for him to calm his right arm enough for her to do anything with it.
I held his free hand and stroked his hair in a vain effort to try and pacify him even a little. I felt more and more frantic because I didn't seem to be helping and I couldn't stand seeing him like that. Pat didn't look like she enjoyed it, either.
Once the I.V. needle went in, Nate was growling. Forced, gutteral puffs of exhalation. He really, really hated it and, though I've never had one, I've heard I.V.'s hurt like a motherfucker when they're first put in.
She drew blood... about three vials of it, from the I.V. cathater. Then, she flushed it and put him on a liter drip of saline solution to hydrate him. Doctor's orders. After that, he was uncomfortable from the cold sensation of the drip, but calmed considerably once he adjusted.
Next, the doctor came in. Well, the main one who was on duty that night. He wasn't Nate's usual doctor, or his surgeon from his gallbladder surgery... he was a colleague of sorts. He asked some questions about the usual stuff and gave Nate an abdominal exam, to see if the area in question was painful when pressed, to see if he perhaps had a hernia of some sort, and to see if the abdomen was hard at all, which would give hint to impacted colon, blockage, tumor, internal bleeding and possibly a bad infection or gas buildup. He said that Nate had a 'soft belly', which was a good thing... and then said he would be back after the tests were all complete and he got the results.
From there, we waited a bit. Things de-escalated for us and we talked. We lightened the mood and calmed our nerves with some light jokes and whatnot, just to ease our minds a bit. I got up every so often to give Nate a small kiss or pet his hair or something, just to help him settle more. He shifted in the bed, poked at the tape holding his I.V. in place because it was pulling one of the hairs on his hand, and farted a few times.
Then, a technician type guy came in and said he was to go to x-ray (to try to find any masses or blockages in his abdomen anywhere). He wheeled him out on the bed and he was gone for a while. Atleast, I think that happened next. I'm pretty sure. Sorry, it's all a bit of a blur right now. :\
Anyhow... while he was gone, I just kinda sat around and looked at the protruding veins in my hands and fingers. My hands always do that when I'm upset, so it was no wonder it was happening then. Pat paced a bit before deciding to go get some drinks for me and her and to update Nate's father on the situation. I said ok, she told me to make sure to watch her bag, and she left. I basically just watched the people walk by and do their thing... remarking mentally about how different this scene was from the ER and Trauma center shows on TV.
Eventually, Nate was wheeled back in and the guy put the footbrake on his bed and made his leave. Another guy, a male nurse with a bald head and a Boston-New York-Providence cross of an accent came in and delivered the good news... the first blood test didn't have readable results, so they needed more blood. Nate groaned and complained, thinking it'd be another I.V. extraction. The guy said he only needed his arm... and used a much smaller needle to extract two vials. Nate didn't hurt as much and didn't freak out nearly half as bad. I was relieved. He finished, made a few wise ass remarks about stuff and then left. Pat came back and Nate had to pee. They needed a sample, so the same bald guy lead him down the hall to go. Pat wandered out again and Nate returned later. The doctor came in to talk about the results afterward, but didn't want to talk without Pat there... so he left until she returned. She came back and he delivered the news:
The white blood cell count was low, showing no sign of the body needing to fight off an infection. This was part of ruling out appendicitis. The urinanalysis proved negative for kidney and bladder problems. His belly exam said there was nothing wrong there... and the x-ray revealed no sign of blockage, impaction or abnormal masses in Nate's abdomen. Since the spot of trouble didn't hurt when pressure was applied, the doctor said he couldn't figure out what was wrong...
So, he said it was Nate's choice to either stay the night for observation or to go home, rest and then see his regular doctor in the morning. Nate, of course, chose to go home. So, all that done, we finally start to leave with Nate getting dressed and us thanking everyone who helped us and gathering our things.
We leave, talk to the mother of the pregnant girl and drive home. Nate goes to bed, as do I. This is why I've been on so little lately.
Come morning, I'm woken up to Pat knocking on the door. I was naked, so I wrapped myself in a blanket quickly and answer the door. she's on the step by the door and there's a huge puddle in the little 'hallway' between our door and the other side of the basement's door. She tells me that she needs to see Nate and take him into the doctor's and that she doesn't know why the water's there. We both hear water running somewhere nearby and she goes to get Paul. Turns out, the septic tank overflowed in the other side of the basement. It leaked under the 'hallway' wall and go onto the floor there. It didn't get into our room, though, until we had to walk through it with out sandals on to get upstairs and then back into the room.
All in all, there's some drama. We mop up the water near and in the doorway of our room. I take my new doormat out to dry out. Paul goes to get a sump pump to clear out the septic a bit and Pat and Nate get a ride to the doctor's from a friend of Pat's who was over at the house.
I go online a short while and stay off AIM while they're gone. I play some RO to distract myself and Nate returns with iced coffee for both of us. Everything is relatively fine for a while. The doctor said it was probably a stomach virus that Nate's body fought off for a while, but it go stuck in that corner of his intestine and that's why it was generalized. This sounded fishy to me from the start, but he's a doctor, so he would know, right?? Pfft.
Anyway, Nate lays on the couch, sipping his coffee and relaxing like he's supposed to and it eventually becomes pain. Acute, sharp, localised, intense pain. I go and tell Pat, who's still sitting in the car. She makes excuses about how she can't do anything and can't go back to the doctor until 4 pm and all this. Nate then comes up the stairs, clenching his stomach, whimpering with tears in his eyes, clenching his teeth. He says to her that it's really bad and he feels really nauseous.
I'm losing it by now, yelling to Pat to call the doctor again and tell him. Telling her that it's not just discomfort, that it's now PAIN. Finally, she does... and the doctor says to keep an eye on it until 4 pm and to call him back then.
This goes back and forth for a few hours before things start to calm down a bit.
Meanwhile, there's more drama... which involved me screaming at Paul and Pat, "I'M JUST HYSTERICAL RIGHT NOW, I'M SORRY." and, "IT'S NOT FINE IF HE'S IN PAIN LIKE THAT. THAT'S NOT FINE!!!" in response to people telling me 'it's alright'. Pat goes to drop Paul off at work once she calls Sal and tells him that Nate's been ordered to bed rest by his doctor and can't go to his driving lesson today. I'm torn apart. I feel like I can't stand it anymore... like I can't do anything and it's all falling apart. I'm scared to death that Nate's going to slip away from me at any moment and I won't be able to stop it. I curl into a ball on the couch while he's resting in the bed and sob my eyes out in fear and frustration... my mind can't help but wander to the possibility of him dying... and wondering what I would do if he did...
Nate rests. He says he feels better when he sits, as opposed to laying down, so I stick him in front of the computer and let him play games to take his mind off of it.
Pat calls several times and says she's going to get things to make homemade chicken soup and some supplies for him. Like pepto bismol for his diarrhea and any nausea he might get... and nyquil capsules so he can sleep well at night. I tell her that's fine and everything and keep an eye on Nate. Pat called out of work so we'd have her and the car here in case things got bad again... Nate made a slight recovery... no longer being in actual pain... and he pretty much stayed on the computer the rest of the day.
Pat was pretty frazzled from this as well and she finally came home with her cargo. Joshua and I unloaded the groceries and put them away... and Pat got the soup started. I pretty much made trips up and down the stairs to check on Nate and get things done around the house. Hannah makes a general ass of herself, as usual... and Pat goes to unwind in her room while the soup stock simmers. I whip up a batch of miracle gro for the plants and go around the house watering them with my IKEA watering can. This is the course of the night until the soup is done and we all eat.
Nate didn't have much appetite since the incident the night before. Actually, he didn't eat anything at all since then... but his appetite slowly returned once evening came, which was a very good sign. The pain hasn't returned since earlier today, so... things are looking up somewhat.
He ate, took a dose of nyquil and an antibiotic. He played a little while longer until he felt the need to go rest in bed. I helped him and tucked him in, giving him a shoulder massage to calm him down a bit more and he fell asleep. And, since I'm a little calmer now, if not drained... decided to keep all you posted on this so you'll know why neither me nor Nate will be on much in the next few days.
If things get worse or Nate ends up in the hospital for his appendix, I'll update you. If it clears up, I'll update about that, too.
I'm sorry he and I haven't really been interested in chatting... he's a bit anxious about all this and I'm frayed from worry and fear. I'm really at my wit's end... and there's nothing I can do. I love him so much and it hurts me and makes me feel useless and powerless to know I don't know what exactly is wrong and I don't know how to fix it.
I honestly can't say... what I would or could do... if I lost him...