She had developed gout and the doc put her on an anti-inflammatory.
After taking it for three days she started getting very uncomfortable in her abdomen and last Friday morning we went to the ER. They did a CT and the doc said he found free air in there. “Free Air” is a medical term for air where there’s not supposed to be any, so no jokes, please and thanks.
What had happened was that D had a perforated intestine and even though the hole was tiny the fluid leaked out as well, so she was transferred to another hospital for surgery.
Luckily, one of the surgeons was the guy who did her gastric bypass 5 years ago, and since he knew exactly where and what he had done he was able to laperascopically (with 5 incisions) repair her intestine. Even though she ran a low-grade fever the docs never said she was septic and the fluid wasn’t purulent, so I think we dodged a major bullet.
Long story short, my wife was in the hospital for 6 days and we came home Thursday of this week. She still has the tube, it is still draining and I am keeping a close watch on her temp and changing her dressing at least three times a day.
I italicized “gastric bypass” up there so that those of you who are docs or medically savvy would see it and say, “Ah-HAH! People who have had gastric bypasses should not take anti-inflammatories!”
I guess she forgot and so did the PCP (gen med doc - not the one who did the GB).
Had the worst happened there would have been a big hole in my loving heart, not to mention her family would also suffer a great loss due to the fact she cares for her elderly sister and brother - takes them to the doc, regulates their med intake, etc. And then, of course, there’s me, who is trying best he can to keep a low profile and not be a burden.
Life threatening? The doc who saw the CT told us that the perforation was near where the heart is, and he said yeah, it is life threatening.
So we all had a rude awakening, and I was scared that I might lose my wife, my friend, my partner, my lover, my rock and my life. (meaning, of course, that my wife is my life - nort that I would kill myself or anything!)
I hope I am writing the right words, because I don’t want this to appear that it’s a “poor Bill” - type thing, because it isn’t about me, it’s about almost losing the most wonderful, kind, patient and caring woman I have ever known.
So the crisis is over and we’re in the “aftermath” I reckon. We live upstairs, so I help keep her steady as we navigate our way down, and I’m being Mr. Mom (with a lot of guidance from D, of course) and learning what colors to wash together and how much bleach to use, etc, etc.
Thanks for reading this.