So, this happened about a month ago already but I am still all worked up about it. The husband was sick with the stomach thing. And it wasn't it his usual sick. But I wasn't, like, freaked out worried, I just knew it wasn't what he typically goes through. And when I realized I should take him to the E.R. it was 9:30 at night. So, I told him that I'd let him sleep because we have been to the E.R. in the evening and it is never a great time to show up. SO, the next morning I got up to walk sweet pea and I checked on the husband before I left and thought "Oh shit. I can't go for a walk, I have to take him to the E.R. right now." I completely thought that there was a decent chance the E.R. would simply rehydrate him and send him packing.Naturally, the husband didn't want to go, and he begged me to just let him sleep a while longer and promised me he'd be better if I just let him sleep. So, I did what I always do, I called the doctor for validation, and the doctor said it sounded like the E.R. was the right thing. I had to threaten the husband with calling an ambulance, but he did pull on some clothes and make it to the car.
Long story short (HAHAHA, me tell a short story?!? Hilarious!) Even in the E.R. they weren't panicked and thought he had Norovirus (I knew that wasn't it) UNTIL his blood results came back and then I saw some serious concern in the face of those who were sprinting down the hallway with vials of antibiotics for his I.V. and treating him. A few doctors said something along the lines of "It's good you brought him in when you did" and one nurse came right out and said he would not have lived if I had waited another day.
I am really struggling with the fact that he was in a very dangerous situation and it was not clear at all. He had no pain. I mean, even the hospital staff didn't realize the seriousness of the situation until they saw the blood test results. I can't blood test him every morning to access his fitness! I expressed my feelings to the husband's kidney doctor last week when we were there for a check in and he reassured me that not even the hospital staff had any clue initially but my instincts were intact so I needed to listen to my instincts in the future. That wasn't entirely comforting. My instincts have not gone to med school and my instincts can not perform blood tests!!
I also had an inappropriate exchange with he nurse who checked the the husband into his room when they admitted him. She asked if he had advanced directives and I said he did and also had a D.N.R. She said he was too young to have a D.N.R. and tuned to he who has barely left the house for past 3 years and asked if he wanted to die. She said "Do you want to die? Are you ready to die? Okay with dying?" The husband looked off into the distance, tilted his head, half shrugged and said "I suppose I want to live." I told her through gritted teeth that he does not want to be alive in a compromised situation. Then the nurse explained to me that if he had a massive stroke and they revived him and he was on life support I could make the decision to remove him from life support. Because who doesn't want to have to make that call? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Don't worry, I reported her.
What happened to the husband was a massive gallbladder infection that had gone on so long he had pancreatitis and was about to have total organ failure when I brought him into the E.R. Lying on the E.R. cot waiting for the blood tests he turned Homer Simpson yellow. It was frightening to see. But, the entire time HE HAD NO PAIN. Doctors were practically lining up to palpitate his abdomen as if one would finally touch a magic spot of pain but the husband felt nothing. He had diarrhea and vomiting, two things that normally don't warrant hysteria, just electrolyte drinks and crackers. I just knew this wasn't typical and that's why I wanted a doctor to see him. But the thing I keep replaying in my head is that I wasn't frantic, didn't even think they'd really admit him. As a matter of fact, somewhere I have a bag of chargers and headphones for him to use in the hospital and as we walked out the door I thought about grabbing it but didn't bother because I thought there was such a slim chance that he wasn't returning with me.
Then the hospital had a parade of specialists checking in on him before they could perform the surgery because there was a chance the surgery was going to be too much for him. The surgeon said his gallbladder was very scarred and that he must have been having unnoticed gallbladder attacks for a while. And the husband survived the anesthesia and the surgery and now he is basically as he was before the surgery.
So, the two big things I an grappling with now are how close to the end he was without anyone realizing it and also how many things are wrong with him and how many different paths he could potentially go down and how to make this the path with the least suffering.
Ok, there is a third issue. In my heart I know the old husband who would hate being the new husband and in the past he has said things like how it is ridiculous to keep people alive for a meaningless last couple of years of medical intervention at the end. He said we, as a culture, had to get more comfortable and accepting of death. He liked to quote some statistic that 90% of a person's life time health care costs are accrued in their last 18 months of life and we needed to let go of dying people. Part of me feels like I am betraying the person he used to be by saving his life over and over again.