An Anniversary to remember

I should probably make another drink before I type all this out. 

I spent our anniversary at work, and then the ER, with Ron. 

Ron had been kept up all night by foot pain (radiating from his back) all Thursday night.  Friday morning we went into work very early to get our Dr Pepper delivery, stock, inventory, etc.  We did all that but Ron was still in extreme pain. 

He was "barking" in pain.  It wasn't really a yelp or a yell, more of a bark.  He would shout in pain and his face was contorted in pain.  All radiating from his back. 

I didn't say anything, but he said he wished he had done the surgery on the 14th.  [I did make myself a drink - sugarfree raspberry lemonade]

First, though, he was concerned about recovery time.  We have a mandatory vendor conference in a couple of weeks.  What if he couldn't attend?  Our boss had a similar surgery to Ron and was out of work for months. 

I tried to tell Ron he just has to sit at the conference, he doesn't have to fill a vending machine.  That reassured him a bit.  Then the other vendor said he would not give us a ride. 

I didn't think that was very nice, but it's their vehicle.  If they want to refuse a ride for a crippled man in a wheelchair (I would fold the chair and put it away), they can.  As they say "It's a free country". 

That was a real kick in the gut, though, now we have to arrange a 600 mile round trip journey, or ride Greyhound.  That got Ron back to could he walk up the steps, after the surgery. 

He talked to the "Supreme Commander's" secretary/admin and she referred him back to our boss.  Our boss did some research into it and said we could take a serve-safe course if Ron couldn't attend. 

All this time, Ron is yelping "Ah!" in pain and doubling over periodically, while trying to fill the machines.  Happily the machines did not need a lot of work but it was gruesome to watch. 

No matter how he's treated me at times, I wouldn't wish this on him, ever.  I suggested, if it got really bad, we could go to Urgent Care.  He said no. 

We got home and I took a nap.  Ron drank what was left of the vodka, in the hopes that it would alleviate his pain.  It didn't. 

Happily he didn't have enough to trigger a blackout, which has happened in the past with these episodes (this isn't the first, just the worst). 

When I got up, a couple hours later (remember I woke up at 2 AM), Ron was groaning and doubled over again.  He was using his back massager on his foot. 

I suggested, using it on his back, since that's where the pain originated.  He did that and said it helped a little but he needed to go to the ER. 

First, though, he wanted me to take the deposit to the bank, and run by Walmart and pick up my prescription as we'd planned.  He called our driver. 

I did as instructed.  When I got home Ron was on the verge of calling 911.  I only talked him out of it by reminding him the cats would get out. 

We loaded him into the truck and drove off down the road.  Then our driver started talking about this blind man he met the other day, how the credit cards were so neatly organized in his wallet.  His wallet.

"We need to turn around". 

Ron's wallet was in the backpack because I needed the business debit card to make the deposit.  I had to run back and get it. 

We headed back up the road, in rush hour traffic, to the hospital.  We got there, I loaded Ron in the wheelchair, bringing my hospital bag.  I had various things like my tablet, quarters for the vending machine, change of clothes for Ron, personal care items for Ron, and chocolate for the medical providers.  . 

Don't laugh, a bag of mini Snickers will go a long way to establishing a good rapport with the care provider.  I also had my medication, which I took at the proper time

I hauled that all in and checked Ron in.  He was still screaming in pain, periodically.  His blood pressure and heart rate were elevated. 

Then he had me plug his massager into a spare outlet so he could "vibrate" his foot.  We got some looks for that but the medical peeps were cool about it. 

He saw the intake nurse, the triage nurse, and then a nurse practitioner.  Our driver waited for us, and he said she was giving people stuff to drink for CAT scans, etc.  She basically took one look at Ron and sent him "back".

We got Ron settled in his hospital bed.  He was still screaming in pain. 

What a day, huh? 

Another nurse practitioner came in, this one managing Ron's case.  I gave him Ron's written up medical history and the MRI report on his back (save some money if they already know what's wrong).  He talked to Ron, did an exam "AAHG!" and left. 

The nurse came back a little later.  He had steroids and morphine.  They didn't work.  After a while I rang and told them it didn't work.  The NP came back.  He was worried about Ron. 

I found Star Wars Episode 4 (the one that introduces Luke and Leia), and watched that with the volume down, and the captioning on.

The nurse came back after a while with more goodies.  This time, Valium and Morphine.  I think Ron has a tolerance to Morphine due to all the morphine he was given after the accident.  They had him pumped full of the stuff for weeks. 

Anyway, the morphine didn't really help the pain but the Valium kicked his butt.  He started mumbling about wanting his own bed. 

Ron finally said he wanted to go home, outright, and I told the nurses.  I put him in his wheelchair (he didn't have any IV's), and they came with the discharge paperwork. 

They prescribed Neurontin and Tylenol #3.  I was a little worried they would think Ron was some sort of pain pill junkie but they specifically told me "We know he's not 'seeking'".  So he has something. 

However, the pharmacy was closed.  We checked out, a very cheerful lady in a hijab named "Jennifer" of all things.  She was nice. 

I grabbed our driver and we left.  Did Ron want to go to a 24 hour pharmacy?  No? 

We went home.  I got Ron into bed and fell asleep myself. 

What a day.