Well, as I have been saying, Christine had been sick for about a month off an on through her whole ordeal. She was sick through Vegas, got better, then got sick again last week, got better, than got really sick last night, and today she went to the doctor. We wondered if she got pneumonia from Fran via her illness never really cured from Vegas, but she was X-rayed and passed as clear. She called me at work, and asked if I could come home early, because she was still feeling lousy.
We got a call from the doctor around 3:15, and he said, "I just got some tests back, rush immediately to the hospital. We think you are having a heart problem!"
They put her in the emergency room, and she's currently at Fair Oaks Hospital in Fairfax being treated for a possible heart condition. They really don't know yet, and so tests will be done for the next 24 hours. It could be a simple lung virus... could be a heart attack. Yeah, that kind of scale.
Last news was that the first round of tests showed no evidence of heart damage, which is a good sign. Even though she had been tested negative for pneumonia and bronchitis, they put her on an antibiotic drip solution, and she told me around 9pm that she felt better, but was terribly bored and wide awake. They still don't know why she's having chest pains, but everything they do points to they have deep suspicions something is horribly wrong, because they keep treating everything with white kid gloves, and they have her doing heart and blood tests until tomorrow night at the least. Her blood pressure is really high, too, so that's not good.
So if I seem grumpy and out of it for a while, please forgive my mopey Goth behavior. I want to be more perky Goth, but I am weak and unable to lie and be cheerful and say everything is going to be okay. I feel really guilty about this, because I am supposed to be there for my family, and be supportive, but again, I am paralyzed by my own fear, and I am unable to do anything useful to anyone. My worry is so bad that the skin on the left side of my body is much hotter than my right, and I feel like it's crawling with tiny bugs, which I only have under severe stress or fear. I have these hand shaking fits from time to time where my hands get into this loop where they won't stop shaking until I sit on them or hold them tight or something. It's like they need to be hugged and reassured. My ulcer is really, really not doing well, but I can't be sick or be the guy who needs help because my job on this earth is to help others. I have to be there for CR, and obviously, since I am in my den typing this blog to keep from going nuts, I am doing badly at that, too. I feel like I have to tell him it's going to be okay, but the last time I did that, it was to Bobbie, and she died two weeks later. I felt so guilty that I lied to her, it was one of the major reasons I couldn't attend her funeral. I know in these situations, you're supposed to put on a fake grin and say, "It's going to be okay, life is great, and nothing will go wrong," but ... I can't lie. I promised myself once I became an adult, I'd never live another lie again, and it was a stupid promise that again, has fucked me over morally. The stress is incredible, and the roaring of my own blood in my ears is deafening. It is only by logical will alone that I haven't gone crazy, and as long as I don't get that call from the hospital asking me what to do with her body, I should be fine in the end.
Please feel free to call Christine at Fair Oaks, as she would love to hear from people since it's really boring and she wants to keep her mind off of things, and obviously I am not helping by being upset and worried and so psychodramatic.
Hug your loved ones for me...
This entry was originally posted at http://www.punkwalrus.com/blog/archives/00000534.html