Sturm und Drang
Thu., August 9, 09:38 AM
Sturm und Drang, usually translated as storm and stress, is the name of a German literary movement. I had started a Word file with that name, and I must have had another use in mind for the phrase. Nevertheless, the past week or so has most definitely been my personal Sturm und Drang, also known as Husband.
I thought it was going to happen again. You may remember my writing a similar post in August, 2004; if you want to go back and check the link, I'll wait… In this reprise, it was again a hot and humid week. Husband did not seem well, wasn't breathing well or drinking enough. U.D. and I, observing him, thought we might bring him over to the emergency room at the VA Medical Center. We continued to observe.
Sunday morning was a little better. The heat had broken for a while, and my son and daughter-in-law were in town to take us out to breakfast. I thought the combination might perk Husband up a little. He made the effort, but all four of us could see that it was an effort. By the time we had finished breakfast, all other plans went on hold. We drove over to the VA.
“Weak and short of breath,” I told them, “I've seen these symptoms before, and I'd like to keep them from getting worse.” They hooked him up to oxygen and an array of monitors, and even I could see there was really a problem. i've never seen his oxygen level that low. The emergency doctor told us we had gotten him there just in time.
He was still in the emergency department when we left, waiting for a bed in the step-down (intermediate) unit, but around midnight they decided to put him into ICU. I know the time because they phoned me — at half past midnight.
Actually, getting him there early made a lot of difference, and not just because we didn't need an ambulance. He required intensive care for just a couple of days instead of the week he needed last time. They will probably send him home with oxygen (which he didn't want before), inhalers, and even nursing care; but I doubt that he will have to spend a month in convalescent care as he did three years ago. Dodged the bullet again.
Meanwhile, of course, I am… what? Frazzled? Verklempt? Worn out? Yeah, for starters. You may remember, I have cataract surgery scheduled — Monday. I am stacking and restacking my mental to-do list because I spent so much time at the hospital. Since I'm not driving, I have to do a lot of planning dependent on other people. I haven't been out on the bike because I've pretty well worn out my legs walking through the buildings.
My son has been here every day through Wednesday; he will be back on the weekend. U.D., of course, has chauffered me to the market and the pharmacy, and she will go with me on Monday. Husband is contagious — not critical, not pneumonia — just enough that I don't want him near M.D.
We will get through this, as we did last time but, y'know, his timing is awful.
I have received many messages of support, and I thank you all. As I've said in the past, all prayers and wishes gratefully accepted, whatever your belief. Friendship is powerful therapy.
