I slept for a few hours, but I woke up feeling energized at midnight. No surprise: I was supposed to start working an overnight shift this week, and had adjusted my sleep schedule to accommodate.
So I’m putting the energy to use, doing what I do when I feel like I have no control over anything … CLEAN. Sanitizing ALL the things: surfaces, toys, stuffed animals. Laundry. Ironing Martin‘s work suits. Staying busy.
Still smirking over a funny moment yesterday … because we are not military and our health insurance is American, we had to pay upfront more than $1,000 for the hospital stay. (It’ll be reimbursed eventually by our insurance.)
Normally, we would put that on the credit card, but as it turns out, we actually had the money to pay it. Martin returned from the admin office with a funny look on his face. “I took it out of the money for your surgery next month since it’s already in Euros,“ he said.
To which I responded, ”Welp … sounds like Mom’s boobs saved the day…AGAIN.“
So it goes…
Martin got no sleep last night. He looked like a zombie when I relieved him this morning. Of course, two minutes after he left, all the German visitors came by.
An admin to take our food order for the rest of the week. The doc to administer some meds and ask about overnight. A nurse appeared to set up a breathing treatment. She helped me disconnect Junior from everything so I could wash him and change his clothes, and then change his bedding. He was exhausted, but feisty with me, which is NOT his usual demeanor, but is a few steps up from the limp, lifeless boy he was yesterday.
I got him sitting up and eating, but that wore him out, so now we are resting and bingeing on some Puffin Rock cartoons.
We have a diagnosis: it is severe viral and bacterial pneumonia. A co-infection that complicates how the body heals. Martin hadn’t returned yet when the doctors came in to tell me, wearing covers and masks, explaining things to me in both German and English so I understood. Describing his x-rays and how badly it is hurting him.
That was awesome.
We have to be careful with his exposure now, and hope that the antibiotics do their job against the bacteria, and clear things up so his immune system can focus on fighting the virus, too. Meanwhile, Junior is miserable. He did not react well to all the doctors, nurses, and the breathing specialist, no doubt recalling yesterday’s struggle to find his veins. He’s not allowing us to put him down.
And that’s fine. We’re not going anywhere.