How awful for you both! Sending positive thoughts for Mr. Shoe’s quick recovery. Hang in there.
I’m so sorry to hear of this. You’ll both be in my prayers. Here’s hoping he gets better soon. We’re all hoping to hear good news soon!
Never hesitate to share your fear with us, we’re always here, we can take it, we really don’t mind, and that’s the very best way to get rid of it!
(I’ll light some incense at the temple tonight!)
Oh, dear. I’m glad you got him to the hospital, and that he’s being treated. I hope he becomes aware enough to know that he has to stay put and stops trying to get out. And I hope he recovers quickly.
Yeah. I know that feeling.
Give as much of it away as you can, the fear is not helping you and it is not helping him. Use this message board, use your real-life friends, use your cats. The rest of it… well… snarl at the fear and sometimes it backs off a bit. For a minute.
Good luck and good healers,
mischievous
Sounds so scary. :(. I’m so sorry. Good thoughts your way. Please let us know how he’s doing.
I’m so sorry. More good thoughts and prayers headed your way.
You all are in my thoughts and prayers as well.
Medical stuff: they put in an A-line, or an arterial catheter into his brachial artery as it passes through the clavicle area. It makes giving IV drugs and drawing blood much easier on the patient. His platelets (as opposed to red cells that carry oxygen) are likely low, resulting in spontaneous bruising. We work with WNV in my lab, but unfortunately what we do isn’t clinically applicable.
I hope he improves over the next few days. Take care of yourself as much as you take care of him.
Thanks. The new neck line went in OK (I figured he would be, but … the feeling of signing that “1% chance of …” paperwork wasn’t pleasant) so there’s that. His kidneys are still functioning OK, so there’s that. The echocardiogram showed not-major-but-not-minor heart failure: the dr. said normal aortas move 55-60% of blood volume (… yes? sound right?) and that My Shoe’s is moving about 25%, and that 10% is “very bad.” So … sorta bad? He also seems to have viral myocarditis (inflammation of the heart and lining/sheathe) and they’re giving him meds to increase his blood pressure, which keeps dropping because of the septic shock.
ETA: oh, yeah - they’re giving him a round of immunoglobin. Is that distilled or something from human blood donations?
So, here’s what the blessedly honest doctor basically said: he’s critically ill. There’s still a chance he could die, but he’s stabilizing. They’re prepared for him to get worse - and, in fact, are anticipating it. “He’ll likely get worse before he gets better.” That’s fine - I just don’t want him to get so much worse that he doesn’t get better, yanno?
I haven’t had the cojones to open that “what do you do when your SO dies?” thread, even when he was hale and hearty. Now? I might go blind crying. Please, please … I don’t want to need that advice in there. Please. Please. Please.
I’m so sorry–keep us posted and know there are many, many people thinking of you and your husband.
Sending both of you good strong thoughts. Here’s to him walking those few steps, and being reassuringly cranky, as fast as is humanly possible.
Friend of mine has a pal in Colorado who contracted West Nile a few months ago. Male, mid-50’s. She says it almost killed him.
Talked to my nice manager and the somewhat-infamous Grandboss, and both are being extremely sympathetic and flexible. (BadGrandboss = emotional and unpredictable. GoodGrandboss = emotional and sympathetic.) The ICU visiting hours are strict - even a wife or a mother cannot get around them - and there’s a big enough chunk inbetween two of them that I can work a half-day (4 hrs.) and still not miss a visiting period. It’s not much, standing there looking at him all tubed up, but at least I can touch his hair and rub his feet and whisper in his ear:
“Schmoopie, if you come home, I promise, I’ll never call you Schmoopie again. If you don’t come home, I’m putting that shit on your tombstone. Now, what’s it gonna be?”
(This is what passes for prayer with us.)
They sound, frankly, surprised that I want to work, and my manager (rightly so) I think suspects that I won’t be working at full capacity and that I could be a liability. I’ll try not to make mistakes, but I cannot just sit in an almost-empty*** house surrounded by his belongings, his handwriting, our memories. In return, I told them flat-out that if I hear anything, good or bad, I will drop everything and leave, and they were more than OK with that.
Shit, if anything, they sounded almost relieved. I keep my personal life very personal, and really don’t talk about home life with my co-workers other than the basics and generalities and the occasional “my kitteh did cute XYZ last night teehee!” I think I may come across as something of an automaton to them, which I most assuredly am not. I’m just an introvert, partnered to an even-more-introverted introvert.
Mr. Shoe’s friends have been coming out of the woodwork in support. One, (ahem, my ex’s twin brother … yes, the ex I dumped in favor of Mr. Shoe, all those years ago) has already come to visit. Frankly, My Shoe has been depressed lately at his lack of IRL friends; many of them have moved (he’s terrible at keeping in touch) and, well, a few have died too, including the sorta-suicide of his best friend.
Hang in there, sweetest, and let us show you how many people really do care about you.
*** The two cats are reasonably decent company. Generally, if one is conked out, the other comes around for scritches. So there’s that.
Sounds like it’s going to be a wild, scary ride, purplehorseshoe. I’m glad you were warned that it might get worse before it gets better - that may be a tiny bit of comfort that the doctor’s know what’s going on, and are prepared to deal with it. I hope.
I thought I was the only one who used the term “Grandboss”… none of my friends ever understand it, for some reason.
-D/a
That sounds promising, though, that he is stabilizing.
I am sending lots of good thoughts your way. Hopefully this nightmare will take a turn for the better very soon.
Oh I’m so sorry you guys are having to go through this. Let him know that he has many people sending healing thoughts his way. Take care of yourself.
Do a search for my username and “grandboss” through the ginormous Workplace Gripes thread for all the fun you can handle. 
IIRC someone else coined the term, when I referred to her as my boss’s boss. (Holy shit, that thread was started in 2010?!?eleventy?!?)
Just got back from the last visit of the night. No better, but no worse. Mr. Shoe’s aunt met us there - she’s a nurse - so it was mighty comforting to have someone rightthere double- and triple-checking.
After we’d walked off, she doubled back for a minute. Shoe’s mom said, “She wanted to check his catheter.” When ShoeAunt came back, she actually - and this is something only a nurse can do, really - gave us all a beaming smile and a thumbs up! and said, “his urine looks great!”
To be fair, I understand. While conscious, every time he peed, it was deep orange. I glanced at the tube myself and noticed it was clearer and a mild yellow. So, at least, he’s hydrated to the gills and his kidneys are doing their groovy thing for now.
C’mon, heart + lungs + liver. He hasn’t been so gentle with y’all so far, but you have GOT to buckle down and get all healthy and shit. Brain: you too. Get with the program.
ETA: there’s thunder and lightning in the distance. Ominous for some, I suppose, but rain in these parts during summertime is considered a blessing by the most hardened of atheists. Sweetest: come home and listen to the next storm with me, okay?
If you die, you’ll miss the next Game Of Thrones …
Sending you both loving and healing thoughts…
Pulling for a smooth and complete recovery for him, and my thoughts are with you. 
Texas, damn, if you were in the area I’d try to help distract you. Thinking of good things for you and Mr. Shoe.
Pulling for your husband to get well and come home to you really soon, purple.