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August 23, 2005
Borrowed Time
Six years ago yesterday, on the 22nd of August 1999, Dawnise started the "rest" of her life. A week prior, on the 15th of August, I had taken her to the ER because, to make a long story short, her chest hurt, she couldn't breathe, and it was getting worse.
I got to see, first hand, an emergency room behave like the ones you see in TV dramas. By the time we got into the ER, I had her in a wheelchair - walking was too much exertion. We were ushered in ahead of the queue in the waiting room and a gaggle of Doctors, Nurses, and technicians descended. They don't fuck around with chest pain and shortness of breath. I hid in a corner, staying out of the way so as not to be evicted from the room. Aside from when they needed to clear the room for in-place X-rays, I didn't leave her side. Within minutes they had a preliminary diagnosis, and had started her on a heparin drip to dissolve a suspected blood clot.
One of the doctors pulled me aside and started to describe what they thought was wrong - the only words I remember hearing were "blood clot, lung, could be more of them." I don't remember much of the rest of that night - I do remember calling working and telling them what had happened and that I'd be back "when it was over."
Turned out she'd had a pulmonary embolism - a blood clot had formed in her calf, broken lose, and wandered through her circulatory system before lodging in her lung. By the time she was in the ER, one lung was collapsed, and the other was mostly so.
The next week was a slow, steady progression from bad to good. Morphine was administered liberally for the first few days, and though Dawnise was breathing without assistance, she was breathing a pretty strong oxygen mix to counter her reduced lung capacity.
By the time she was able to have visitors in the ICU she was on the road to recovery. She was on warfarin for several months after being discharged - on a regulated diet (low in naturally anti-coagulants), and essentially a hemophiliac. You could bruise her with a feather, and our newly discovered fascination with motorcycling went on hold.
Many of our good friends visited her in the hospital - and one in particular couldn't be there in person, but called, and sent a stuffed bear in his stead (thanks, Ken - we still remember). Some of them (ahem, Brad) made her laugh - which was a mixed blessing; it lifted her spirits, but it hurt like hell.
Dawnise didn't realize, 'till long after being discharged, how potentially disastrous her situation had been - and her ignorance undoubtedly prevented her from panicking and making the situation worse.
I learned a lot from that week, sleeping in a hospital chair next to her bed. I realized that one lifetime isn't possibly going to be enough time to spend together; and that there are few truly important things in life - everything else is just distraction.
For the past five years we've marked the date she was admitted to the hospital, and celebrated the day she was released. It's an event we're unlikely to forget.
We celebrated yesterday by spending the day together, as we have a tendency to do at every opportunity.
Posted by dberger at August 23, 2005 7:28 PM