While you’re making other plans, pt. II

So here I am, working away, and texting my wife – yes, we text each other a lot, so I guess we’re still teenagers in that respect – and she had been feeling poorly of late.  I’d been asking her to call her doctor to little avail, but the two ladies who work under her double-teamed her and took her to the doctor’s office. It was a little dismaying to, shortly thereafter, get a text that simply said, “Come take me to the ER.”

She’s a diabetic, and has been dealing with erratic, often high blood sugars for a while. This time, it was so high the glucometers at both the doctor’s office and the ER couldn’t measure it.

She was barely lucid by the time we got her through triage and into a room. The bloodwork later revealed the sugars were at 690, and, along with the fluids they were pumping into her, they administered a large dose of insulin, which got it down to 314, Her color slowly improved, her humor returned. She wasn’t allowed to drink or eat, so we tried to keep her in ice chips.

It was finally determined that she was to be admitted to the hospital – her pancreas was inflamed from the elevated sugar situation. Finally, after nine hours in the ER, they put her in a room. I was sent home and gratefully surrendered myself to bed – and then an extremely vocal thunderstorm blew through at 1am, so the universe wasn’t finished screwing with me. This morning, her fasting sugars were at 276, which the medical profession refers to as Too Damn High. Still waiting for a Doctor’s opinion.

I guess I do brave and strong very well. People keep looking toward me for it.  So I managed to keep it together until I got in the car to drive home, and took a few minutes to lose it completely in the privacy of the driver’s seat. Sorry, guy who parked next to me without my noticing, if that discomfited you in any way.

Yeah, before you ask, there is still no health insurance involved. That is a problem for another day. Right now, all I want is my wife, and the mother of my child, back. And about 12 hours of sleep. And a stiff bourbon and coke. And a pony.


  1. Best wishes and a speedy recovery to your better half, Dr. Freex. I hope that your son is okay, too. And may the second half of the year bring better financial prospects to the Freex household.

  2. Yuck. Yuck, yuck, yuck. You’re on my prayer list.

  3. Thank you both very much.

  4. […] While you’re making other plans, pt. II June 2010 3 comments 5 […]

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