Well, sometimes things get worse before they get better. For the record, I'm still waiting for the "better" part. The ambulance arrived at our house Thursday afternoon, to find me strangely calm (I'm pretty damn good in a crisis, despite my mother hen tendencies), my husband writhing on the floor upstairs, my youngest daughter in full hysterics and my older daughter in mother-hen mode herself.
The sky continued to fall, although in stages, so I felt like Han Solo and Chewbacca in the trash compactor on the Death Star. I could see and hear the occasional ka-thump as it fell closer to our heads, but I couldn't reach it to hold it up. All I could do was yell for help.
Unfortunately, my husband, extraordinary in so many ways, was true to his nature and was unable to be understood in the hospital. It turns out that none of the treating physicians or nurses had ever seen such an ailment before and eventually turned to treating his symptoms enough that they could get him to feel better and go home. The good news is, he's home now and feeling much better. The bad news is, feeling better had nothing to do with anything they did for him in the hospital.
This particular illness seems to strike without warning and subside spontaneously whenever it damn well feels like it, leaving him exhausted but feeling basically normal. He was unable to eat or drink for six days and a CAT scan showed a complete blockage in his stomach. Even fluids were unable to pass through and so he vomited violently approximately every eight hours, one liter at a time. Biopsies were taken, ultrasounds and blood tests were run, but nobody knows what the blockage is or why it suddenly disappeared yesterday. He got twelve pints of fluid and a boatload of potassium and was sent home after demonstrating that he could keep two popsicles and some crackers down. Yippee?
Don't get me wrong - I'm thrilled to have him home. I wasn't entirely sure he'd make it back here. His potassium level was so low he was having seizures and they thought his heart would stop. But they can't figure it out and nobody seems inclined to go out on a limb and keep testing. Thank goodness for my mother bear. She's ready to roar and will keep at it until someone listens.