Do You Have More Health Reports, Mr. Derrick? (Reminiscence)

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I've been self-conscious writing any more about our family's current and most recent health experiences, since those topics have so dominated these pages for the last 18 months. But it is simply a fact that the most interesting things happening to us now are, well, mostly medical.

So... Here goes another one of those stories.

1

First, it was me. We were beginning to count the days until my daughter's baby was due in late February. We had the suspicion he (we knew it was a boy) would not come until sometime after that but it was a tempting reference point anyway. In the middle of one night a few days before the preset date, I woke up with serious chills and fever. By morning I had diarrhea big time, which lasted all day. The temperature calmed down soon but the intestinal disruption continued for pretty much of 24 hours. Then, in that second day, I appeared to have outlasted the virus and was merely tired... But really tired. My wife A---- had nursed me and was still feeling fine.

By the way, we had both had our flu shots earlier in the year. But that just didn't defend anyone against the onslaught of this Noro virus monster.

Sure enough, there was no sign at all of the new baby as yet.

2

A couple of days passed as we congratulated ourselves on A----'s having managed to dodge the Noro bullet.  Then ... Well, the slow-motion melodrama did resume, and in no time at all, I found myself on the phone to A----'s Primary Care Physician (in the 19th century - or was it the 20th? - we called this doctor our "GP").  I said:  "First I had a virus involving a high temperature and then diarrhea, and now my wife has both nausea and diarrhea - no fever - and we're finding it impossible to keep her hydrated."

I thought I was going to go on to describe that she was now so weak she couldn't even sit up on the bathroom floor, she wasn't as lucid and logical as usual, and so on and so forth.  But as soon as I said "dehydrated," the nurse practitioner in the PCP's office said to call 911 and get A---- to the Emergency Room.  She would call ahead.

This happened to be the same hospital where our daughter was planning to go to in order to have her baby.  If it had been a race, we were going to win.

3

The two EMTs with the ambulance - which surely resembled a fire truck, by the way - were fast. pleasant, and efficient.  A----- had made it as far as onto her knees in the bathroom by the time they came in.  But when the big guy asked if A---- could help them get her standing up and onto the gurney, she said loudly and in no uncertain terms, "I can't do it!"

Anyway, in a jiffy they had her up, out the door, and into the truck.  I was to drive myself and meet them at Emergency.  Perhaps I was a bit excited.  I had been in the Waiting Room almost 15 minutes before the Ambulance/Fire Truck arrived.  Using the back-roads route we had planned for the baby's arrival, it was a 28-minute drive.  (The EMTs had used the main roads and no lights or siren.)

Within minutes of the I-V setting the fluids straight and a few minutes more for the anti-nausea medication to get going, A---- was her usual self, although she didn't remember much about the last two or three hours.  They kept her overnight and then another day and night.  She was hooked up to the I-V much but not all the time.  In the second day, we did a few laps slow-walking the corridors.  One more day in her own bed at home, and A--- began to slowly resume ordinary activities.

Two weeks passed.  Still no baby.

4

Our daughter L------ was very sad to learn her body was not yet showing signs of impending delivery.  Then, she had a 24-hr bout with Noro Splats herself.  She was well cared for in the hospital and seemed to recover somewhat.  The drug they'd been considering administering to stimulate labor was begun, and then stopped again to allow her to recover more fully from the dreaded Noro.  The baby was waiting patiently.

Our son W-----, who had planned to come from his home in the big city for one of the baby's first weeks at home, arrived while his sister was still recovering from the virus in the hospital.

When the obstetrician started the birth process again, labor seemed on the way.  One of the delivery nurses looked hard at our son-in-law R---- and ordered him to the Emergency Room.  She told us later she had talked with her colleagues there to say it was up to them to get him back for the delivery, holding mean old Noro at bay.

5

R---- made it back in time to help all through a grueling delivery.  Our daughter struggled long and hard for 24 hours, with little progress.  Ultimately the baby-to-be began to show signs of stress.  The decision was made to deliver by C-section. 

That process went as expected, and our grandson was born.  L------ was united with her new baby and started to nurse him, and R---- dashed home to be sick.  Like me, he was not known to have vomited in many years.  He made up for lost time that day, as the Noro diarrhea did its work too.

Our children L----- and W----- have always been close, but never any more so than the next three or four days when he more or less substituted for L------'s husband, even staying overnight twice to help with the baby in L------'s room with her.  R---- kept in close touch with the action from home by phone.  A----- and I visited the hospital often.

6

The long labor, preceded by the intestinal flu, had weakened our daughter considerably.  She would not have been able to have the baby in the room with her, except for feedings, if one of us hadn't been on hand to help.  We took turns, but W----- took the night shifts.  The baby was doing great.

And the fifth morning after delivery, the new mom and her baby were able to go home at last.  My wife and I had spent the afternoon the day before decontaminating the youngsters' apartment - Lysol all around - sending ol' Noro packing once and for all.  R---- had got the car rigged up for the baby carrier.  He was reunited with his wife and new son, and he drove them and W----- across the city to their second-floor walk-up.  A----- and I followed.

L------ was still laid up from the surgery for a week or so, but W----- flew back to his home and work.  R---- had a few days leave, and we grandparents helped out a bit.  By the one month anniversary visit to the pediatrician, the latest arrival was doing great and his whole family was right as rain again.

Whew!

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