Poor Steve ----- he has been so ill. Wretched Steve ---- he refuses to go to a doctor. GRRRRRR.
When we returned from a swim, on Tuesday just after 7pm , he said he felt as if his blood sugar was low, but he tested and it was fine. He ate dinner but was very tired and said he had a headache, so he was in bed by 9pm. For the next 14 hours, he alternately slept and vomited. The headache diminished when he lay down but returned vigorously when he sat or stood. I just sat up and waited. Over and over again, I told him that I wanted to take him to the hospital but he was adamant that he wouldn't go. He was quite delirious for a lot of the time but his refusal to do anything medical is perfectly typical!!
Wednesday passed with Steve sleeping but vomiting only a little. Sometimes he made sense but often not and he just wanted to sleep. I asked repeatedly if he would let me take him to the doctor. NO NO NO. I took his blood pressure, convinced that this must be the problem but it was the lowest he had had for a long time. I went down to the kiosk to buy him a drink and talked to a few people. We agreed that Marion, Lindy or Angela would be able to stand up to Steve, delirious or otherwise, and make him see a doctor, so I said that I'd let them know.
Once again I stayed awake for most of the night but by 3am, Steve had been quiet and calm for a while, so I fell asleep in my recliner chair. I woke to find Steve sitting in his chair beside me and felt very happy, convinced that he must be much better. He must have had a momentary good feeling too because he had made himself a sandwich ----- he took half a bite before he went back to sleep. When I got my bearings, I found that I had slept non-stop from 3am and it was now 4pm on Thursday.
Many people have called in to ask if we need anything but with Steve not eating, we have plenty in hand. It's 1am (Fri) now and he has been asleep for another 8 hours. Every time he snorts, rolls or grumbles, I go in to see what I can do. This time he was complaining about a sore back so I persuaded him to get up. Well, that's what I thought I was doing! He sat up, talked in a soft voice, docilely agreeing with all I said, then announced that his water bottle was more than empty and went back to sleep. I roused him for a few silly conversations then got him into his robe and down to the lounge. He managed about 40 minutes in the chair before needing the bed again.
Today I've been saying, "Tomorrow you go to the doctor." This evening he said, "No, tomorrow is my day to eat. I'll have a pie for lunch."
That's something he could mean!!!
Was he delirious then or not??
We'll see what tomorrow brings.
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