Finally on the road, zipping along I-70, west bound with medium traffic, it started raining. First a drizzle, then intermittent showers had me slowing down. But, still, I was not so far behind that darkness would fall with me still on the road.
The rain subsided and it was overcast until I was approaching I-35. I fueled up my vehicle and continued my journey until my bladder complained. Since I had stopped to take care of business, I called home to report my progress.
HeWho never sleeps past 10 am was still in bed! Said he was not feeling well, more indigestion. No, he had not eaten, he had not felt like leaving the bed. I told him he had to at least go to clinic to get his BP taken and see the nurse practitioner. He promised he would. I didn't believe him.
I almost turned around and went back home. I called Kevin (aka my wife) and told him to use his key to the store and go in to our bedroom and be a bully and make my husband get out of the bed and dress and go see about this indigestion. He did just that. The clinic had a long line of potential sick people, so they drove to the ER. When I say "they" drove, I mean that HeWho drove himself to the ER with Kevin riding shotgun.
That "indigestion" and shoulder pain I spoke of earlier was a major heart attack. Upon my arrival to my destination, I called. He nonchalantly told me that he was being admitted, that he had had a heart attack. I told him I was coming back and he said, "Why, the heart attack was last night, it's over now." He encouraged me to stay and enjoy myself, that he would call me when he knew more!
Enjoy myself, indeed. Kevin had told the nurse that he was the brother of HeWho and that he would be staying with him. I suppose telling them that he was my honorary wife would only have confused the situation! Kevin is our good friend and lives here in the kampground, along with a lot of other good friends. Kevin was up-dating me as things progressed until he was picked up and came home.
I was tired from the trip and worried, knowing that they were whisking my husband in for an angiogram and possibly some stents to open any blockages that were blocking his blood flow. I had already decided that I would drive home the next morning as I went off to bed.
The Cardiologist called me around 10:30 and spoke to me about my husband. He explained that the angiogram was over and that he was not a candidate for stents. There was "too much damage, too many blockages. You need to understand that he is a very sick man" I almost quipped that he did not know the half of it! I tend to say inappropriate things when I am terrified.
The cardiologist was concerned about his oxygen blood level. He said it was dangerously low and that they had installed a "balloon" pump to literally blow his blood through his heart in an effort to help oxygenate the blood. He told me that if his oxygen level did not rise he would be put on a ventilator.
I contemplated leaving that moment to get to the hospital. I woke my daughter and she crawled into bed with me and we cried together and called her siblings. It was a long night. I dozed on and off after she returned to her bed, leaving her little dog Max to comfort me. Max loves his Gramma, he knows that I am the one who snatched him from the cardboard box of puppies that were shelter bound. Animals know animal lovers.
After gulping coffee and saying goodbye to my kid and her kid, I was once again on the road. Google Maps claimed a quicker way home, promising to shave an hour off the time and I was game.
This is just beginning, stay tuned.