Overnight stay

I’m now officially sleeping over at the hospital. 24 hour observation (unless something unexpected pops up). I’m in a room with 2 beds. So far, the bed beside mine is empty. I’m crossing my fingers hoping I don’t get a neighbor in this room. At least then, I’d have the room to myself for the night.

I’m now on the eighth floor of this place. Been here for almost 3 hours now. No more shivers since this morning. What’s left are aches, pains, and weakness. I have junk in my lungs, but still can’t cough hard enough to push anything out.

My assigned nurse is about to give me more IV antibiotics, and also more saline. Gotta keep those fluids up!

The TV in this room doesn’t have cable. Bleh.

Something interesting is how my perception of the hospital has changed. As a kid and teenager, I feared the overnight stays. If dad, mom, or one of my sisters wasn’t with me, I’d feel anxious or scared. Completely untrusting of any of the medical staff.

But not now, not anymore. I know the rules, I’ve gone through the paces. I anticipate the noises, beeps, screams and moans from patients across the hall. I am prepared for IVs, and the interruptions from the nurses in the middle of the night.

Nope, it’s no longer frightening. It’s something much more common: boring and annoying. Like a bad visit to the DMV. So here’s to growing up. It did me good in that regard. This might actually be my first hospital night stay alone (which really is a testament to my supporters, who didn’t leave me alone when I was younger).

I told my wife not to worry. She’s better off taking care of our daughter and the dog. And that’s another difference for me now. As a youngster, I was selfish in the sense that I wanted my family to be with me, even if it meant their utter boredom.

Now, as a father and husband, I care more about the welfare of my kid and my family. “Go home, guys” I told my sis and my wife. I’ll be okay.

Highlight of the night: getting a call from my kiddo, wishing me a good night and saying she loves me. I told her I love her and that I was doing just fine, and the doctors were giving me lots of medicine to get better. Then we exchanged phone kisses and I wished her a goodnight.

I miss my trio (wife, daughter, pooch). But I know they are doing okay, and that gives me peace.

Goodnight, folks.

6 comments

  1. telly says:

    Im so glad that you are ok, and we now know what it was. Next time you have the slightest bit of those symptoms, we will go to the doc office immediately. It WAS going away but somehow, you couldn’t completely shake it. But now you will be on the road to recovery. Thank goodness for antibiotics! Get strong baby!!! We all love you!!!

  2. Thania Ormonde says:

    My dearest brother,
    This was a little scare for all of us…I say little because as the ‘Rodriguez’ family we endured many, many, many trips to the hospital, at your bedside, worried, wondering…and simply adoring you as we all continue to do. I had peace of mind knowing Pixie was at your side. Through the experience of your illness, we have all become medical ambassadors, we know the subculture of the hospital, the jargon, our rights, etc. This knowledge always gives us the upper hand, especially now with our pixie NURSE…woohoo.
    Chris, I truly pray that through this experience you realize that you ABSOLUTELY MUST put your health first. You MATTER, You are IMPORTANT, You are DESERVING, You OWE it to YOURSELF to be willing to do WHATEVER it takes to prolong your life. You know better than anyone that illness doesn’t simply vanish, that is why we have hospitals, doctors, medication, etc. You know better than anyone Chris…Do not ever ignore what your body is telling you…
    Chris, I love you so very much. We all love you so much, it has only been with pure and absolute love that I have at times perhaps been overbearing, nagging, or whatever you want to call it.
    Part of truly embracing all of you, accepting all of you, loving all of you is making your health an absolute priority.
    Chris, I also pray that you acknowledge and realize that you must also make your emotional health a priority.

    I sincerely pray to you remain open in your journey of realization…Remain open Chrispie and brutally honest of what the truth is. Please know with absolute conviction that you are so truly precious and important to so many of us. I love you very much my dearest brother.

    p.s. just reading over ‘precious’ made me think of Gollum, hahahah

    • Chris says:

      “journey of realization” – I like that phrase. I believe my journey towards self realization has just begun. Lots of interesting thoughts floating around. Stay tuned, sis. I’ll be writing more, soon. Love you.

  3. Marie Lacanlale says:

    Christian, I will pray for a quick recovery for you tonight. Please update us on how you are doing. Take care, buddy.

  4. Jecca says:

    Chris,

    As I was leaving I must admit it was like my body would not allow me – I actually lingered in the hall for a while. I must confess it was stressful for me to let you spend the night on your own – THE VERY FIRST TIME EVER might I add – it was like having my heart outside my body. I guess that’s the closest to feeling like a mom – sorry Chrispin but, no matter what you’ll always be my little brother. It was only after I saw for myself (heck the nurse in me too now) that your vitals were finally better and you had received antibiotics and fluids and you got a little more color in your face that I agreed. But, I was a sneak and went to the nurse entrusted with your care and told her how much you were loved and that she BETTER phone us with anything at anytime. (I live only 7 min from the hospital :))
    I was exhausted but, it took me a while to fall asleep just thinging of you. But, Chrispin make no mistake I will never leave your side day or night if I feel your are too ill or if you request it :) So, sorry bro your aren’t exactly free from us completely hahaha
    Please rest and be sure to finish all your antbx.
    Love you so much,
    yo sis

  5. Chris says:

    Ahhh… my sisters :)

    I wouldn’t expect anything less from you (over)protective critters. Know this: I hear (read) your words.

    The hospital is a rude awakening. But it IS an awakening. A nice, swift, unavoidable, hard kick in the ass. I didn’t want to be there.

    But it needed to happen. And I don’t mean just for medical reasons. I mean as a life lesson. Health first. Machismo later. Message received.

    I love you. And, of course, THANK you.

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