E.R.

So....Monday started really early.  Now, Heath and I have been through quite a bit together in the short amount of time that I have known him.  This story that I am about to tell you will prove to you even more the depth of our relationship.

We went to Jimmy John's for supper last night and then we were just relaxing when Heath said that his stomach was really starting to hurt.  Turns out that he then started throwing up.  Well, a little history on this little situation.  He hasn't done that for 10 years and he said that last time this happened he ended up in the E.R.  So, of course, I sort of start freaking out seeing as I do not handle throwing up well at all!  I called his mom immediately (11:15 pm at this point which is only 10:15 pm in Nebraska) and she kind of walked me through it and said that if I could convince him to go to the hospital right now that it would save me from having to either drag his passed out body down the stairs or having the ambulance come to the scene.

He tested his blood sugar level and at this point it had dropped to 55.  Now, normal is between 80-120 and pass out range is around 40 so he was definitely low.  We were lucky that it was that high since we had just eaten, but since he threw it up, it was rapidly dropping.  At this point in the night he usually has had another snack since dinner to regulate things.  Somehow, I convinced him that we needed to make a visit to the hospital...then, I also suddenly realized that even after living here in Manhattan for the past 6 months, I had no idea where the hospital was located.  (I mean seriously!  I have been so blessed to be healthy!  Praises!)  So at this point, he has his shoes on and is ready to go with his trash can down the stairs and into my car.  I have never seen him like this before, it was awful.  I get him in the car and I also get in and get my hands free phone deal all hooked up since Manhattan is a "hands-free" city.  The only thing that I can think of at this point is to call my roommate Shannon!  Now, she is totally sleeping at this point because she has class tomorrow, but that doesn't even cross my mind at this point in this whole ordeal.  She is completely incoherent when I first called, but after she heard the urgency in my voice, she pulled it together.  She is walking me through it and I finally see the hospital but tell her not to leave me on the phone by myself.  Kindly placating me, she sits on the phone with me until I reach the emergency door much to my relief.  At least I had gotten him there, the rest was up to them.

We get him all checked in and the IV started with his sugar.  Long story short, we were there over 4 hours and I kept checking in with his mom, every so sweetly waking her up every few hours with the updates...LOL!  She had a women's Bible study the next morning.  While Heath was sleeping, I would slip out of the hospital and check on Briggs, go for a drive, or mindlessly drive around the city.  At one point, I ended up in the Vet school parking lot talking to my mom on the phone.

Turns out, I did not like any of the doctors or nurses.  For one, the nurses made him walk all over the hospital filling out paperwork and then they poked him several times before they could get him to bleed.  The doctor was very arrogant and conceded.  I was not impressed at all, but in all fairness, they fixed him.  Another reason I didn't like this whole situation other than the obvious was they put him in a midget bed.  He is 6'5" and his feet hung over the edge of the bed at least 12 inches.  He was sorer from that bed than he was from all the poking, etc.

You be the judge:

By about 3:30 am or so, they send us home.  I get him back to his hotel room and get him all settled in bed and reiterated his discharge instructions knowing full well, he was not listening.  I went back home for a few short hours to shower, sleep, and eat before the first day of our food safety conference at AIB.

I called him at 5 am and then again at 7 am because they wanted to make sure that his blood sugar levels were not dropping and that he was out of the danger zone.  He was fine.  I stopped by on my way to the conference and he was just really sore.  I kept texting him and calling him on my breaks all day at the conference to make sure that he was going to make it.  I stopped by at lunch and made sure he had everything that he needed.  Slowly but surely, he was starting to be alive again!  PRAISES!  THANK YOU LORD for helping me!

I had KLOVE on in the car that night and just remember singing something about a rough evening, but joy comes in the morning!  I clung tight to these words!  :)