It’s Saturday morning and I spent the night in the emergency room with Bo. Our third visit. He’s back — with pain, extreme pain, in his chest and back and with a fever. It’s been coming on worse and worse for three days and after dinner last night Jon and I knew we had to bring him back here.
It’s not fair. Not fair at all that he has to undergo all of this. The pain started out as a cramp or perhaps, we thought, a bruised rib. But he hadn’t fallen, had no bruises, and of course he can’t tell us what’s happening most of the time. One time he will be cursing in pain and the next when we ask where it hurts, he has so response. But one thing for sure, we knew it hurt him each time he moved.
After X-rays and a CT scan, it was determined that Bo has a blood clot on his lung. He was given pain medication so he could sleep, and I sat up all night beside him. Jon dropped us off, as has become our habit now, and went home for some sleep. He’ll relieve me later today but I need to stay until all doctors have visited and a determination has been made about Bo’s medication.
Right now I’m eyeing the breakfast tray that was dropped off. I should awaken Bo so he can eat since he’s lost so much weight, but he doesn’t want to wake up and eat. Dare I eat those eggs and pancakes?