I have struggled with an unknown illness for years. I was diagnosed in May 2007 with Lyme and to co-infection. In that expanse of time, my friends grew tired of me and my family just got use to it. When I got really sick, couldn’t walk, remember anything, eat or have the energy to go up the stairs I was just an inconvenience. When some lingering friends figured out I was about 5 months from death, they figured I would get better in a week and be back to helping them, giving them advice and having fun with them. I was not and they decided to go away because dealing with someone who is sick is not fun. Even my bf found my illness and inconvenience and distanced himself, wondered why I wasn’t there for him. .and we broke up.
My (ex)bf finally got diagnosed with Lyme and I decided to be there the way I believe a friend should be there for another friend. You cannot walk in the darkness alone like that, I wouldn’t let an enemy do that. He got a PICC in like me and I called him everyday, I bought him food to ease his bills and balance out medical costs and whatnot. I visit him once a week, make sure he is eating and he is ok. I told him anything he needs he just tells me and it will be done, no questions asked.
Friday, he went into the ER yesterday morning in septic shock possibly due to his PICC being infected – he almost died. Whoever found him, called me since I had text messaged him around the time they found him and was able to give all the information on his illness. I called the doctor’s office that was treating him so all the information would be available when he arrived at the ER.
He’s in the ICU, hopefully will be out tonight if not tomorrow, which is a miracle. I was the first to the hospital since his friends and family are all down south. I talked with the doctors, I notified his parents and friends and worked on coordinating everyone coming to stay/visit him. I wiped his brow, I got him water, I held his hand, I called those he cared about and let him talk on the phone with them a bit (he couldn’t move his arms). I bothered the nurses for him, asked him what I could do, got his personal stuff together and invested the help of his roommate for other things.
I went to see him the next morning, found him surrounded by his friends and family, looking much healthier and happy that everyone was there. He was talking and laughing and not so stressed. Leaving the hospital I realized I did what I wished someone else would have done for me. I helped and am helping him in the way I wanted to be helped. In walking away, I misted up a little because had it been me. . .I don’t think anyone would be standing around my bed, holding my hand. No one would call.
Other than, of course, close family whom I love and would never take for granted and who would be there, for sure!
I don’t feel particularity fulfilled even though I believe I have accomplished this goal. I feel more used and alone than before. I don’t regret it. I would do it all (and will continue the calling, visits and food until he has moved, as I believe he is planning) again.
