Monday, June 28, 2010

Oh Yes, December 11...How I keep avoiding that date...

I call out from work.

Bob woke up at 3 am, took a shower and said he was going to the resort.

His gait stumbles...I bring him to bed and start to pray....

This is NOT depression.

I call Patty at daybreak and she says to stop the medication immediately.
I know this is not from an SSRI...he is declining as I speak I tell her...but my mind searches my years in critical care...this is not a stroke, this is not a subarachnoid...what the HELL?

We go out to the car. He walks past me to the street...I guide him back, as he starts listing to one side....

I get to the ER, he starts to walk to the Y...he is now shuffling...I take his now weaker left side....is he stroking? How can this be....

In the ER, I am never so relieved as to see my colleagues. He is put in a gown, and when asked the year, says, "1993"...my jaw drops....the president, "Nixon?".....
Dr.C comes in- looks uncharacteristically alarmed, orders stat ct scan and plan for neuro/psych eval...I rack my brains - he hasn't had a drink in days, he is tremoring -DTs? DTs with dementia, a stroke - wierd if it is.....

"He has a mass"

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