Sunday, July 2, 2006 - evening

I think this will be shorter than I’d like it to be. I have a lot to say, but I feel like shit. Had a not very good visit with Mike from about 10:30 until 12:30. “He’s not himself,” as Kit says. “He’s not even the “not himself” that has become “himself,”” I corrected. He’s out of it, not following instructions. I tried bring him to the bathroom and he dropped all of his weight on top of me as I was firmly ordering him to carry his own weight. He can – he just was – but he just like collapsed and wouldn’t follow instructions. I know it’s something in his brain, but I got scared and I got mad. He collapsed into his wheelchair without even checking to make sure that it was there. Oy.

I had gotten him cleaned up, including a shave and pedicure … and after the bathroom escapade, I decided we should just go to the roofdeck for a while and I would return him to the neuro cafeteria at 12:30 pm to eat as I headed to pick up Bax at Heide, Daniel and Hazel’s house.

On the roof, Mike was docile. Didn’t say anything much. We sat and listened to the music being pumped over the roofdeck through the sound system. It was hits of 1979. He sang along with “My Sharona” and “Escape.”

I tried to ask him questions: “How is your mood?” (No response) “Do you have any questions about how Bax is doing?” (Shakes head no).

“I miss you, smoosher,” I said, holding his newly shaven face in my hands. He looked right into my eyes, smiled and leaned into my hand. He opened his mouth to speak,

“Yes I like Pina Coladas
And getting caught in the rain
I'm not much into health food
I am into champagne.”

I rested my head on his leg and cried. He kept singing and ran his fingers through my hair.

Every once in a while, it seems that this stress hits me physically – very quickly. I went from fine to horrible between 10 am and 1 pm. Fortunately, Bax napped from 1:30 until 4 pm, so I got some sleep in. But I’m running a temp of 101, keep running to the bathroom to vomit (with no success) and feel sharp throbbing pains in the joints of my hands, feet and legs. The glands in my neck are swollen, too. I’ve taken a bunch of advil and a few Tylenol and no success yet. This has happened to me a bunch of times over the past 8 months. It feels like Mono – but in February when I had it and saw my doc, he ordered tests and nothing came out positive. If it didn’t suck so much, I would be certain it’s all in my head.

Needless to say, I might not go to Magee tomorrow. There’s one of me and I have 3 full time jobs. I have to feel better.

Now Bax has been in his crib for 30 minutes crying – because of the thunderstorm, I think. I explained with a smile on my face that the clouds are dancing and partying, having a grand old time. He liked that explanation for a minute, repeating, “Clouds! Play!” as he pointed to the window – but each time he drifts off only to be awoken by thunder once again, he’s as pissed as the first time.

1 comment:

Jalena said...

Writing this both places, dont know which you'll see first. Have them check his cortisone levels!!!
Sounds like something maybe going on there. Might now but I'd have them check them. That sudden dropping sounds like an adrenal issue. Or they can give him a stress dose, to see if it helps. If so, they need to do an increase. The surgery might have affected his levels.