My husband went to the hospital today. He is currently in Intensive Care and has had two minor surgeries.
He has spent an entire month trying to go to the hospital. It has been torture for my family and I. The constant vomiting is enough to drive anyone crazy. Yet, he continues to suffer as if he really believes he can wish the ailments away.
Yesterday was very stressful. The plumber was there repairing a pretty bad leak and informed me I needed to pipes which will cost $3400.
There were four firemen and three EMT's in my living room. My husband was vomiting, while each person was vying for my attention. I think that is the closest I've been to losing it in a long time. I was so glad to see them all go.
I went to bed, but was unable to sleep. To see the relief on his face when they gave him oxygen only confirmed by belief that going to the hospital was going to be his only salvation. I was able to talk to him briefly and even though he's not, he sounded a lot better.
For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to death do us part.
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