Back in the Hospital
Simon is back in the hospital. I was out with the kids all day yesterday while his sister cared for him at the house. She was texting me updates with his temperature, blood pressure, eating, and mobility. All were declining throughout the day. We had the kids stay at my parents’ house and got Simon’s oncology office on the phone. They recommended going to the ER.
Simon was in too much pain to travel via car. So we called 911. The firefighters, paramedics, and EMTs were kind and helpful, but had a look on their faces that we are getting used to. The look that says “34-year-olds-shouldn’t-have-cancer-and-shouldn’t-look-like-this.” Simon was too weak to talk so I tackled all the medical questions they asked us rapidly. At one point, the paramedic asked, “So are there any other medical conditions beside the cancer?” I got a bit snarky with him and said something like, “Well, there are lots of other medical conditions. That’s what happens in stage four cancer.” He quickly apologized and said that was not what he meant. I apologized, too. Nobody seems to be an expert on how to handle dying young.
As the last firefighter was leaving, he tried his best to straighten up our rug and leave the house in the best condition he could. He was staring at me with sad eyes. I asked him to keep us in their prayers – that we have three young kids and this was all so hard. He said he would and I know he will.
Simon’s sister rode with him in the ambulance and my dad and I followed. Normal protocol upon ambulance arrival to the ER is that family waits in the lobby until the patient has been triaged. But God knows that doesn’t fly with us in this unique situation. The EMTs let me go back in to the employee-only area so I could communicate on Simon’s behalf. And within five minutes of arrival, I saw two employees that I knew from high school who follow the blog and took extra measures to get us comfortable. I even snuck Simon apple juice against medical advice. If my honey wants apple juice, or heck anything, at this point, he is getting it.
We still don’t know specifics for this current visit. He was admitted and they are running a gamut of tests. After being handed a terminal diagnosis almost six weeks ago, our hearts are pretty well prepared for any news. Not much shock value left these days. And if whatever is going on is temporarily fixable, then Hallelujah! Bring the man home and get him ice cream. Or apple juice. Or a pony.
We’ll keep you updated. We tried our best to take a sad-face selfie because, yes, we try to find a bit of humor or joy even in these dark days.