Saturday, June 08, 2013

Six months less six weeks

Yesterday Cris was uncomfortable all day with nausea. At 6:00 pm she asked me to google some search terms, and based on the results she decided to ask the doctor for some specific anti-nausea medicine. She reached the doctor's backup and he agreed to phone the pharmacy with the new scrips. About this time, Catherine came over. We didn't really have plans, but she wanted to eat. So after she spent 15 minutes talking with Cris, she and I walked over to Mission Street. My idea was to pick up the scrips and then take them along with us to dinner. So far so good.

But the pharmacy didn't have Tigan in stock, and neither did any of the other nearby Walgreens. So I had to call Cris to report this. She said she would call the doctor back and try to get an alternate. Meanwhile I figured Cath and I would have time to go eat and return to the pharmacy in time to pick up the revised order.

As we walked down Mission on the way to the restaurant, I went into a small rant. "This is so typical," I said. "Cris is the one to recognize that she needs a new med, Cris is the one to call the doctor, and when that doesn't work, Cris is the one to call him back." My voice was breaking now. "She's always the one who manages her own care. She's the one to call. I don't know how to do these things. Who's going to do that when she's unconscious?"

Catherine put her arm around me. "When she's unconscious... She'll have different needs. That's not a long period anyway. If she's at the point where she's in a coma, you just take care of the body. It only last a few days. I know, this is so hard."

I managed not to break down in tears.

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