Sunday, March 2, 2014

The house is way too quiet...

Sunday - noon.  Luther's still in the hospital.  We were hoping he'd be out today but his blood pressure is sky high so he's in another day.  

Yesterday morning was weird.  Do I take him to the hospital?  How do I get him out of the house?  Who should I call?  I was the proverbial chicken with head cut off for about 1/2 hour.  I kept asking Luther if he wanted to go to the hospital and it dawned on me he wasn't going to say "Yes!  I'd love to go!"  

I had to get it together and figure this out.  I've talked about this in the past - how we have these weeks of routine where life seems relatively normal.  And then *BAM* - something happens.  The illness lurks around, lets us fall in to some sense of false normalcy and then it pushes Luther straight to the ground, looming over us, telling us, "Nope!  You got too comfy!  Remember?  You're sick!!"

The VA (Vets Administration) is incredible.  They have an "Ask a Nurse" line so I called.  She asked for Luther's info.  I heard her type it in and she pulled up his file.  She's in Iowa but she had access to his file within seconds.

After talking about what happened, she said to get him to the hospital.  She called ahead and let them know we were coming.  How awesome is that?

I called my sister and had a moment of hysteria.  Her husband answered and I was crying pretty hard.  The thing about my family - which I've talked about before - is there are really no questions asked.  No hesitation to help.  I wasn't sure if I could get Luther up to the car.  We have a detached garage and it's a million mile walk up an icy sidewalk to the garage.  Bob - the brother-in-law - said he'd be here in five minutes.  

He and my nephew were here in about three.  In hindsight, I probably could have gotten Luther up and out on my own.  But I don't think he would have gotten up and out on my request alone.  Seeing Bob and Will here made Luther realize he didn't have a choice.  He was going.

It was a long afternoon of waiting.  Being in the ER was just like tv.  Lots of commotion, noise, different people coming in and out.  We had lots of attention in the beginning but as the day wore in, we were left alone, waiting.  We figured his situation wasn't too dire or we'd have more people hovering around us.

I think it was five or six hours of being in the ER when they finally got us up to a room.  The good news is - relatively speaking - Luther's fine.  No concussion.  No broken ribs.  His blood pressure is still too high so they're keeping him in another day.

I'm being lazy this afternoon.  The house is quiet.  Feels weird to have Luther missing.  I've gotten used to him here.  I like him here.  

There are two other guys in his room.  Neither have wives or girlfriends or kids.  It's sad.  I was thinking of bringing each a little get well gift.  How lonely to be sick and have no one to worry about you.

I posted what was happening to Luther on Facebook.  I texted friends to let them know what was up. Instant information.  I debated whether I should.  Not every last thing needs to be told or shared.  But there's something reassuring about being able to let people know what's going on.  Asking for help if needed. Sometimes it's a little too instant?  Too.... hands off?  But in the end, the love and care and kindness that people share - even if it's just a quick online message - is nice.  It feels good.  Yesterday, it felt necessary.

Going to get ready to go visit.  I miss Luther.


  1. Gaining and losing "normal" repeatedly, a little stressful to say the least! Your blog is a good illustration of how a situation like yours is first and foremost about LIVING with it. Luther will die, yes but so will we. He is leaving (we believe) a lot sooner, but meanwhile here are the realities of life now and those are very different from "normal". Sometimes none of us can do much but stand next to you, but just know there are many here, standing...

    1. Oh Lenore - what a wonderful message! We do our best to live as normally as possible and honestly, sometimes doing things we wouldn't normally do in order to check off the bucket list items!!

      It warms my heart to know that even thought we don't see you and Brian often, that you are "here." It's amazing the comfort that gives us. Thank you!!