My husband unexpectedly was admitted to the hospital this week. He’d been doing more physical jobs lately around the house(basically painting) and having had various muscle spasms before, he went to the doctor for possible muscle relaxers. The Dr. in turn sent him to the ER.
I got a phone call from him a few hours later(I didn’t know where he’d gone), telling me where he was and that “they’re not happy with the results of the tests”. An hour later he called again to say that he was being transferred to another hospital for further testing and would be admitted. When I asked if he wanted me there, his response was, “no, not now…I’d rather know you were home.” The ER doctor then called to inform me of the possible diagnosis and that he was being transferred.
I’m not going to lie, that night was pretty much a sleepless one for me…it’s natural I think to give yourself the “worst case scenario” …the “what if” questions. My 24 year old daughter was very comforting and matter of fact over the phone…she had contacted her best friend who is going to be a cardiologist and gotten information from her. I gradually calmed down. The next morning, I woke up with my power…while my daughter on the other hand woke up with a total meltdown. She stayed home from work in the event that the situation would worsen and she would have to fly home.
That day, my neighbor had off and graciously said she’d drive me down(it’s 1 1/2 hours away and I’d never been there before). We would also later have to pick up his car at the original hospital which was in the opposite direction.
He was still in the critical care unit being monitored in all areas. This was the first time ever in his life that he’d been admitted. He’d had instances of same day surgery, but never had been admitted.
His voice was stronger than it had been the day before…but still on the weary side. That evening he called me to tell me he was being transferred upstairs and that most of the monitors were coming off. I noticed that his British accent was stronger than usual. He’s been in the US for over 25 years now and although it generally was there faintly, the only times it generally “recharged” was when he got back to England on holiday.
The next day when I arrived, his accent had become so strong that you could cut it with a knife! I finally understood why…my husband adores being fussed over and getting attention…especially when the nurses say things like, “Oh, I just LOVE your British accent! I could listen to you speak all day!”(they would really be surprised if they knew how little he actually talks at home!)
He was discharged the day after and interestingly enough, the British accent is pretty well back to almost non existent now.
He was originally diagnosed as having “dissection of the aorta”…which necessitated his being transferred with options of either surgery or meds. I contacted my Reiki teacher and she plus others did Reiki for my husband along with me. When the surgeon came the last day, he said that when he’d checked the results the day my husband was admitted, all the test results pointed to “dissection of the aorta”. When he checked it the next day to determine if it would either be surgery or meds, he couldn’t see that at all…it had all been cleared. “I don’t know how it cleared, that happens sometimes and we have no answers for it…” Now the “possibility” was that it had been a blood clot or a bruise…and that he could be discharged.
He’s home and very happy to be home. This has been an experience we don’t want repeated and a wake-up call for both of us. He bought himself a blood pressure monitor to keep track of his “high” blood pressure(bought the only one that was endorsed by the British Medical Association!). The blood pressure has been within the normal ranges…He calls the Dr tomorrow to get an update this week..
I honestly don’t know what to think…
til next time…Eva