Yesterday was rough. I floated in and out of consciousness for most of the day, delirious with high fever. I spent a painful half hour in the waiting room at Urgent Care desperately wishing I could lie down on the floor, or lie down anywhere for that matter, as sitting up was just too taxing.
I struggled to fill out the new patient forms, and I know I would have cursed myself for never getting around to finding a primary care physician if I’d had enough energy to think of anything but keeping myself upright.
Tony took the forms from me, filled them out, helped me get to the exam room once my name was finally called, and took care of payment when my appointment was over. He drove me home, made a bed for me on the couch, and left to fill my prescriptions.
He woke me gently every 4 to 6 hours to give me my medicine. He called my boss to let him know that I wouldn’t be in for the next couple days. He made me toast and chicken broth to make sure I was eating something. He kept my glass full to make sure I was getting enough fluids.
When he went to bed, he left my cell phone on the coffee table and told me his would be on in the room just 30 feet away. “If you need anything at all, and you’re not feeling well enough to get up, just call in case I can’t hear you.” It seems ridiculous now that my fever has broken, but at the time, I probably was too sick to walk to the next room or even call loudly enough for him to hear me.
My dog, who usually sleeps soundly on the cushion next to our bed, kept silent vigil at my side through the night. He spent most of the day at my feet, and slept on the end of the couch beside me all through the night.
The day was foggy with fever and illness, but one thing remained incredibly clear through it all: I am so so lucky to have a husband who cares for me so much and so well. Yesterday was rough, but I don’t know how I would have gotten through it without my little family.