You should always keep your socks close by and your phone fully charged in case you have to go somewhere urgently and unexpectedly. You should also keep a spare key hidden somewhere outside the house in case the door closes on you – as they do in the most inopportune of moments.
We had a full day, Pádraig, today’s carer, and myself, with two therapy sessions in the morning, a spa foot bath, a go on the viva la motomed, and a few other activities. So when I sat down to have my lunch it was almost dinner time. The doors in the apartment were wide open. When I went in to Pádraig’s room to check on him, I’d say after less than an hour, I panicked.
His hands and arms were shivering, his nails were dark blue, and his chin and teeth were going clapclapclapclapclap like they do when you feel really really uncontrollably cold. First I thought I could just calm him down. Then it was gadget time: temperature, blood pressure, heart frequency, oxygen levels – most were wrong. His heart beat was so fast the machine I used to measure it couldn’t cope and went into overdrive. His hands and arms were shivering to much that the next machine came up with error messages complaining that it could not measure his blood pressure if he kept moving.
Eventually I called 120. Reluctantly. But I was on my own with Pádraig and I wasn’t going to take the risk. The ambulance arrived. The crew came up the stairs, found the door closed, and were going back down when I ran after them calling them back up.
When I ran out the door after the ambulance crew, I knew I was making a big mistake. The sound of the high security lock of the door to the apartment closing behind me was the confirmation. Now the ambulance crew was back, but we were all outside – me in an absolute panic, the crew getting ready to call emergency services to smash in the door. I asked them for 2 minutes as I realised I had my car keys with me and hoping I had left a spare key in the car. Called out the neighbours to let me into the locked underground car park and got the door key for the apartment out of the car.
Back up, crew and I in, wondering should they wait for the emergency doctor or take Pádraig straight down to the ambulance and then on to hospital. They waited for the doctor and the apartment got crowded with people wearing really unfashionable orange and yellow emergency jackets. Turned out that Pádraig’s temperature had gone up by almost 2 degrees in just one hour.
Just about, but only just about did they listen to me and left him here – with a word of caution to immediately ring if things got worse. While there were four emergency crew in the apartment, Pádraig got better: his nails started to go back normal colour, his heart beat still high but not dangerous, and his blood pressure coming back close to normal.
Nothing is like it was and it never will be. How vulnerable he still is. How things can change within minutes, literally, from being ‘normal’ to absolute panic stations.
It’ll be a tense night and fingers crossed, all will be ok.
But, just in case, I will keep my socks close by tonight, the phone fully charged, and a spare key to the apartment in my jeans’ pocket… Just when I thought these days had gone, they’re back. Like watching-a-movie-time all over again. Because this just cannot be happening to you and your child.
Hospi-Tales 
Hope you both get a good night’s sleep and that tomorrow’s new day is a calm and peaceful one after today.
When I started to read a post entitled ‘Socks’ I never anticipated that your day had been so difficult.
I got anxious even reading about finding yourself locked out, with Patrick unwell. Relieved to hear that blood pressure and heart rate are returning to normal.
Take care and mind yourselves.
Thank you, Mary! Not sure why the socks became so important. Maybe because I was locked out in bare feet and was wondering how to get to the car… By the way: your book arrived and it is really really nice! I am reading it very slowly, not because I wanted to but because I haven’t found time during the day to read; and in the evening I’m so tired that I am joining Marianne in her dream before I can finish even a chapter! In a way it’s good to make it last, it is so nice…
I have been locked out with meringues in the oven by a three year old back in the day and over the years the local teenagers broke into the house with alacrity any time I managed to lock myself out but can only imagine the panic you felt. I’m glad that all is well now.
The book as I say is a children’s book. I find reading children’s book ‘comfort reading’ because of course there is a satisfying and happy ending. I think you may find some slight parallels with your life as Marianne populates the house with things to improve Mark’s quality of life as I know you do for Patrick.
Here’s to a good night’s sleep for both of you tonight.
I love thinking of the idea of a happy ending too, we need to keep a bit of the children’s spirit even when we’re getting old!
What a day you both had. Glad all improved now. I can understand how panicked you must have felt when you were locked out. That happened me once when one of my babies was locked inside the house, with me outside. I didn’t want to leave the doorway to go to neighbours to get spare key! I can still remember the fright. It’s good that Padraig improved without medical intervention. That’s a positive.
You both deserve a quiet and restful night now.
In Ireland you always have the option of ‘just’ breaking a window, that is if there ain’t one open already…:) I would have taken the help of spiderman to get into our apartment, Gráinne. But you are right: the panic is something you’ll never forget.
I’m so sorry to hear what an awful day you both had! I hope the night is easier than expected and that you both wake up feeling better tomorrow.
Didn’t sleep that much, Diane, which had the advantage that it was a deep sleep. When I woke up last night seemed almost just like a bad dream…
Thinking of you, and praying that you have a peaceful night. God bless you and keep you in the palm of his hand
Your prayers worked, Kay. As the night went on things slowly moved back to normal. With the new day, the night and the scare had disappeared.
Bolt out of the blue-but Reinhard even in the panic you were confident ,controlled and convinced all there- the best place for Pádraig is home..Pádraig also agreed …please God all stayed settelled and you both rested…
No place like home. He’s out of hospital and with us, Norma. Yesterday was just a reminder of days gone by and a reminder to take it slow and easy (with the occasional sprint thrown in:).
Gosh. What a scare. with Fate playing a rye sly part vis-à-vis the keys.. a good little warning which you seem to be recognizant of!
Well, we’ve had a few real heavy-duty scares already on this journey together with Pádraig at the centre, doing his very best as ever, and you, Pat and your family doing likewise, all giving it “Socks!”but sometimes the raw vulnerability of his condition breaks through all the care both personal and Professional and exposes itself for the World to see and remember: it’s so easy to be lulled by your unflagging optimism and belief into forgetting this raw delicateness at the heart of his condition sometimes!
You seem to be filled (and you fill us) with a daemonic determination that Pádraig and we will get through this to something better : and we will, you all and he, the family, his friends and all who love him. We will, together. Your devotion is a Godsend that lifts everyone involved to dizzy heights, all around Pádraig, and lifts him too: bears him up in angel hands of care every day. Even angels’ hands must slip momentarily sometimes too! Maybe they too are only human, at least in part!
All your magnificent work for him is a prayer re-sent every hour of every day. He is cupped in the hands of God: your work keeps him there . Without you, his family, where would he be?
And we are all here too, all around you, and so is God and his Grace and Love, His Dominion, all around, throughout, inside and out. Steady. Steadfast.
Love
Seos
No option but – getting through this, moving, on, Seos! With you and all of his friends and family without whom we would all be islands. And not Dreamboaters:)