Scary shit

Keith caught a cold virus around the New Year, and it's been disrupting our sleep quite a bit the last week or so. Well, him and a certain two year old who can't hold it in all night long, but at least she doesn't pee in her bed, right? Early Tuesday morning, he told me he thought it was turning into a sinus infection, so yesterday we packed the kids and I took him to the doctor. The doctor said, yes you have a sinus infection, here's your drugs, and sent us on our merry way.

Now, we had plans last night, which included celebrating the birthday of our favorite librarian.

Maybe I should start with the fact that I can never tell how sick Keith actually is based on his actions. He pretty much lays in bed, and I leave him alone, because he's a guy. This has worked well for the entire time we've been living together.

Yesterday, he did not eat anything. At all. He stayed in bed and slept for most of the day. I let him be, thinking he would be well enough to go to dinner. About a half hour before the baby sitter was due to arrive, he had me take his temp, and it was quite high, so no dinner for him.

When I got home from all the festivities and taking the sitter home, his temp seemed normal. After two HUGE glasses of red wine with a very large Italian dinner AND a pint of beer, I was pretty damn tired, so I went to sleep.

Around 3:30am this morning, I was awakened by a loud crash. I noticed the bathroom light was on and Keith was not in bed with me. I called his name, and he responded from the bathroom floor. He had fallen, bumping his head in the process. He tells me he's okay, then passes out WITH HIS EYES OPEN. He does not respond to me at all, even though I'm screaming in his ear.

I run back to the nightstand by the bed where our phones are, and grab one, running back to him quickly. Of course, I grab his phone, the one I never use and am not familiar with. I'm frantic, screaming at him. He tells me he's fine, and starts responding to me again. I told him it was like he was passed out with his eyes open, and he said that's what it feels like.

He was out for less than 20 seconds; I didn't even have time to unlock his phone to dial 911.

He tells me he just wants to go back to bed so he can pass out again. Yeah, right, like I'm going to help him do THAT! He tells me he bumped his head when he fell, so I check his pupils to rule out concussion, just as a precaution. I tell him to stay where he's at and run down to get some orange juice, and make him drink it and rest a bit before I help him back to bed.

Did I mention that I was so freaked out I was crying? Yeah. And I'm really surprised that my screaming didn't wake one of the kids.

So I don't really go back to sleep for over an hour, because I'm so scared. He actually walked back to bed under his own power, otherwise I would have woken the kids myself, packed them up and taken him to the ER, four in the morning be damned.

Why do all the emergencies happen in the middle of the night? Could someone please tell me that?

So today, I've been a total bossy bitch to him. I brought him a glass of orange juice after feeding the kids breakfast, made him drink that. I fixed a pear for him after taking Matthew to pre-school, and told him he was eating it whether he wanted to or not. For lunch, I told him he HAD to eat something, and he picked a slice of toast.

He did get out of bed this morning, although he laid down on the floor with pillows to watch TV. Around 2pm, he took a bath, then went downstairs and voluntarily ate some almonds and raisins and drank another glass of orange juice, then laid down on the couch to watch TV downstairs.

I talked to my favorite nurse, and she recommended Gatorade in addition to watching him closely, so I fixed him some. When I brought it to him, he asked for a brownie (that was fresh out of the oven), and he's complaining about how bossy I am today. I think he's feeling better now.

But I'm tired, and feel like crying. I don't think I've ever been that scared. Ever.