Dear God Don't Take Him Now. You Don't Want Him.
I've been a little too Mommy Dearest lately in my blogging so I'm moving on. Normally that would mean ripping on my husband. I am pretty sure he's going to cock up Mother's Day again but I usually get something sweet that my son was forced to make in school. Hopefully that's the case this year.
The reason I can't slag on my husband is because I had an eye opening experience about two weeks ago. I was in the kitchen making dinner when I heard a loud thump like something big dropping hard. I thought my husband's computer or printer had fallen off his desk. I called his name and he didn't answer. I poked my head in the door of his office and couldn't see him. That was because he was lying on the ground out cold.
I ran over to him, shaking him trying to wake him. His eyes were open but his breathing was heavy and he was not responding at all. About a month ago we cancelled our home phone because we really never use it and only get telemarketing calls on it for the most part. I'd turned my cell phone off because I didn't want to be bothered while cooking.
I scrambled to get my phone, turn it on and wait while that stupid hourglass sifted the hands of frickin' time. When the phone came on I dialed 9111. That's 911 with an extra 1. When I realized my screw-up I was mashing the hang-up button and trying to redial when my husband woke up and looked at me like I was crazy. I was crying hysterically thinking he was having a stroke. He has those bad Southern genes, high cholesterol and high blood pressure. He has the blood pressure under control now (for the most part) but you never know.
So he's sitting there on the floor like he's just come out of a deep sleep. He had no recollection of what happened and no idea why I was crying. I told my friends it was like that scene in On Golden Pond when Norman appears to be leaving this life and Ethel is trying to keep him here. She says, "Dear God don't take him now. You don't want him." Believe me God, the same goes for Rod.
We just sat there for a few minutes - me trying to stop crying and Rod looking like a little kid who thinks he's in trouble. I am so thankful our son was in the shower and saw none of this. Rod tried standing up and it went pretty well. He had a huge knot on his head, a scrape at his temple and a small cut in the corner of his mouth - all on one side. He'd hit the metal base of a chair on the way down.
We sat there debating going to the ER when our son appeared. We decide it would be best to take my son to my brother's house if we were going to the ER.
By the way I called two urgent care places to try to have him seen there. The first was closing. The second had a seriously rude doctor on call. Fairfield Family Medical Care has no heart. I called them and got a receptionist who passed me to the doctor. I explained what had happened and the doctor said he would not see us - we had to go to the emergency room. So I started to explain why we didn't want to go to the emergency room, namely because my husband hadn't paid our COBRA for the month and I wasn't sure if we would have to pay for an ER visit ourselves. The doctor interrupted me to say he knows no one wants to go the ER but that's too bad. When I explained the possible lack of insurance, he continued to be an asshole but suggested that at the ER they would probably observe him until midnight. He told me not to give my husband anything to drink or eat except sips of water and no medication.
So that's what we did. We sat up until 12 and then I set my alarm to wake up every few hours to make sure he was still breathing. He is by the way, still breathing.
The next day my husband went to see our doctor and she prescribed a series of tests from an MRI to a carotid artery test. He passed the EKG and MRI. We're still waiting to hear about the carotid artery and the echocardiogram.
The doctor thinks my husband overdid it the weekend before - playing hours of baseball and then tennis with our son. Before he passed out he'd had a glass of wine that he drank quickly. She thinks the dehydration combined with the wine caused his blood pressure to plummet and he passed out.
Since my husband resigned from his job he's been working at home and that's always a bit irritating, but particularly now because we are also renovating our house and are basically sitting side by side in what used to be our dining room.
I guess I learned a few things from this experience. One be better prepared for emergencies. Two pay your GD insurance premium. Three I'm not ready for my husband to leave this life.
The reason I can't slag on my husband is because I had an eye opening experience about two weeks ago. I was in the kitchen making dinner when I heard a loud thump like something big dropping hard. I thought my husband's computer or printer had fallen off his desk. I called his name and he didn't answer. I poked my head in the door of his office and couldn't see him. That was because he was lying on the ground out cold.
I ran over to him, shaking him trying to wake him. His eyes were open but his breathing was heavy and he was not responding at all. About a month ago we cancelled our home phone because we really never use it and only get telemarketing calls on it for the most part. I'd turned my cell phone off because I didn't want to be bothered while cooking.
I scrambled to get my phone, turn it on and wait while that stupid hourglass sifted the hands of frickin' time. When the phone came on I dialed 9111. That's 911 with an extra 1. When I realized my screw-up I was mashing the hang-up button and trying to redial when my husband woke up and looked at me like I was crazy. I was crying hysterically thinking he was having a stroke. He has those bad Southern genes, high cholesterol and high blood pressure. He has the blood pressure under control now (for the most part) but you never know.
So he's sitting there on the floor like he's just come out of a deep sleep. He had no recollection of what happened and no idea why I was crying. I told my friends it was like that scene in On Golden Pond when Norman appears to be leaving this life and Ethel is trying to keep him here. She says, "Dear God don't take him now. You don't want him." Believe me God, the same goes for Rod.
We just sat there for a few minutes - me trying to stop crying and Rod looking like a little kid who thinks he's in trouble. I am so thankful our son was in the shower and saw none of this. Rod tried standing up and it went pretty well. He had a huge knot on his head, a scrape at his temple and a small cut in the corner of his mouth - all on one side. He'd hit the metal base of a chair on the way down.
We sat there debating going to the ER when our son appeared. We decide it would be best to take my son to my brother's house if we were going to the ER.
By the way I called two urgent care places to try to have him seen there. The first was closing. The second had a seriously rude doctor on call. Fairfield Family Medical Care has no heart. I called them and got a receptionist who passed me to the doctor. I explained what had happened and the doctor said he would not see us - we had to go to the emergency room. So I started to explain why we didn't want to go to the emergency room, namely because my husband hadn't paid our COBRA for the month and I wasn't sure if we would have to pay for an ER visit ourselves. The doctor interrupted me to say he knows no one wants to go the ER but that's too bad. When I explained the possible lack of insurance, he continued to be an asshole but suggested that at the ER they would probably observe him until midnight. He told me not to give my husband anything to drink or eat except sips of water and no medication.
So that's what we did. We sat up until 12 and then I set my alarm to wake up every few hours to make sure he was still breathing. He is by the way, still breathing.
The next day my husband went to see our doctor and she prescribed a series of tests from an MRI to a carotid artery test. He passed the EKG and MRI. We're still waiting to hear about the carotid artery and the echocardiogram.
The doctor thinks my husband overdid it the weekend before - playing hours of baseball and then tennis with our son. Before he passed out he'd had a glass of wine that he drank quickly. She thinks the dehydration combined with the wine caused his blood pressure to plummet and he passed out.
Since my husband resigned from his job he's been working at home and that's always a bit irritating, but particularly now because we are also renovating our house and are basically sitting side by side in what used to be our dining room.
I guess I learned a few things from this experience. One be better prepared for emergencies. Two pay your GD insurance premium. Three I'm not ready for my husband to leave this life.
posted by Beck at
2:16 PM
3 Comments:
Did you rub his ear? And call him an old poop? I love that scene. The whole movie, in fact.
We cancelled our land line about 4 years ago, but I wonder the same sometimes. What if I can't find the phone in an emergency? What if it's out of juice?
This is a great post. I'd totally give it that facebook "i like" thumbs up.
If this happens again tell Rod not to go towards the light.
Steven
I forgot about rubbing the ears. I know I love that entire movie.
And Steven you're right. Another funny joke we share is smelling burnt toast - apparently that's a sign of stroke. So if I'm aggravated with Rod I'll ask him if he smells burnt toast.
Just a little humor over here at the Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf house.
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