Eight days: Day one.

Warning: Parts of this post may be graphic.

This post was one of the most difficult I have had to write, but I know in order to heal that I needed to write about the worst eight days of my life. I need to get it out and write about how I feel. More than that I think our friends and family would like to know what happened to Andy, why he suddenly was in the hospital.

October 22 I woke up around 8:30 and went downstairs to see Andy. He made a face when I walked in and I asked him what was wrong, he told me that he wasn't feeling good, that he was having some diarrhea and there was some blood. I was concerned, but told him to just keep an eye on it and if it got worse he should go to Urgent Care. We both went about our morning routines, Andy working in his office upstairs and me cleaning a bit and having my coffee downstairs. A few hours later I wandered upstairs to see how work was going and he was feeling. He told me he had another bout and I suggested he go to Urgent Care just to get checked out and make sure it wasn't something serious. He hemmed and hawed a bit but agreed to go. I stayed home to get ready for work and waited for Andy's call.

Around 12:45 he called and said the doctor couldn't do anything and suggested he either go to the emergency room or drop off a sample at a lab. I felt that the ER was a better bet and told him I was calling into work so I could take him. We are very fortunate in that the hospital right down the road from our house and also accepts our insurance so we went there. We got in fairly quickly for the ER and were talking to a doctor by 3:00. They decided to do a CT scan and try to collect a sample to get a better idea of what was going on. They couldn't see anything on the scan but the doctor was fairly certain there was an upper GI bleed somewhere, and by 6 they decided to admit Andy hoping to do an endoscopy in the morning. I was worried but hopeful at this point. We texted family to let them know what was going on and I decided to run out for some food and pick up some stuff from home for Andy since they said it would be a little while for transfer.

As I left I got a text from my mom asking if I needed her down here, I called and told her yes, it would be great if she could be here because I was scared. She told me she wouldn't get down here until late, maybe around ten but she would be there. I don't know why I asked her to come down but I am so, so grateful that I did. After that call, I ran home first and grabbed some comfy pants for Andy and the blanket I made him last year for his birthday, also let the dogs out and played with them a little. It was here I had a little breakdown, I cried for a minute, so worried about Andy. I pulled myself together and left the house to go get something to eat. I returned to the hospital around 7:30, just in time for them to move Andy to a regular room. We headed up to his room and I got him settled and sat with him a while. I met his nurse, plugged in his charger for his phone, chatted a little and decided to leave around nine so I could take care of the dogs. I kissed Andy goodbye and told him I'd see him first thing in the morning.

I came back to the house, fed the dogs and made myself a cup of hot chocolate with some Bailey's in it, topped it with some whipped cream and settled on the couch to wait for my mom. I sipped and watched some TV, I can't remember what. At 9:30 my phone rang, I saw the number, and thought it was the hospital. I remember thinking there was probably a problem with some paperwork or something. I answered:

"Hello"

"Hi, is this Amanda?"

"Yes it is."

"This is Andy's nurse at the hospital. There is a bit of a problem here and you need to come back. I was taking Andy to the bathroom and he lost consciousness and started bleeding profusely."

"Oh, my God." I started to hyperventilate.

"Now calm down, he told me to tell you that if you freak out he is going to kill you."

A strangled laugh came out, that was so something Andy would say.

"Ok."

"I need you to calmly and quickly come back to the hospital. Be safe. We are taking care of him."

"Ok, goodbye."

I remember feeling a thousand things in those moments with that nurse on the phone. I was so scared, I felt so small, so out of control, so lost. I hung up and raced out of the house as quickly as my body would allow. It was awkward because I was shaking all over and crying. As I left our subdivision I called one of my good friends, Michelle. She lives not to far from us but I knew in those moments that I had to be in control of my car she would be able to keep me focused long enough to get to the hospital and she did. She told me not to worry, that he was in good hands, that he would be okay. She offered to come to the hospital but I refused. Let me get there and assess the situation, I said. I think I was in denial about how bad it was. Once I got to the hospital and off the phone with Michelle I called my Mom. I repeated the phone conversation to her as I walked into the hospital. She told me she would be there soon and I got off the phone to let her drive. In the hospital I headed back to Andy's room, when the elevator doors opened I think I knew it was bad, his roommate sat in a wheelchair at the desk, commotion and organized chaos took place down the hallway. I asked the nurse at the nurses sation where to go. She informed me that they hadn't moved Andy yet, but to go wait in the room he was being transferred to in the critical care unit. I walked the halls to the critical care unit and went into an empty room with no chairs. A nurse walked by and saw me, I can only imagine I looked like a little girl, scared and confused, she asked if she could help. I told her they were moving my husband to the CCU and I was told to wait here. She told me it would be better if I waited in the waiting room and offered to walk me there. It was during that walk I burst into tears, repeating I don't know what happened about five times. She rubbed my back and said I know. I walked into the CCU waiting room and about two dozen sets of sad eyes looked at me. People were huddled together with their families, praying, talking quietly, some even sleeping. These people knew what I felt, I could see it as they looked at me. I found a chair and sobbed quietly to myself. I decided I needed someone and called Michelle to come. I needed a hand to hold and my mom wasn't going to be there quick enough. She told me she would be there soon and that was enough for me to calm down.

I had to make some phone calls to Andy's family and it wouldn't be good for me to be hysterical on the phone. I scrolled through my numbers and decided to call Andy's brother Adam first because he is a nurse and I figured he could shed some light on what was going on. I really don't remember the conversation, but I know he was very calm and that helped me. Next I called Andy's other brother Matt and his wife Lauren to let them know, they decided to call Andy's mom for me, which was good because my panic was building and I didn't want to freak her out.

After the calls were made I had some time to myself, a million thoughts ran through my head. What is going on? Why is this happening? What are they doing? Is he going to be okay? Is he going to die? What am I going to do? I felt small and defeated. The worst part wasn't the worry, or the fear, or the confusion, it was that the one person I wanted to talk to, who can always calm me down, and is always there for me was somewhere in the hospital, his life hanging on the line. I have had to face many things in my life, but this by far was the biggest challenge. My best friend, my soul mate, could possibly be dying and I couldn't talk to him about it, I couldn't hug him, hold his hand, or just simply hear his voice, that was the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with, because he wasn't at my side to walk me through it.

After what felt like an eternity Michelle arrived at the hospital and sat with me. Not long after my mom arrived and I had hands to hold and shoulders to lean on. I am so grateful for those two, they made an unbearable wait a little bit easier. At 10:40 a nurse named Mike came into the waiting room calling for Andy's family. I ran to him, hoping for any shred of news. He walked my mom and I back to Andy's room, explaining what was happening. Andy had passed out when he had been taken to the bathroom earlier in the evening, he started bleeding profusely and had lost one third of his blood (later in the week we would learn it was actually half of his blood, which makes this even scarier), he went into stage three shock, they had to call a rapid response team to revive him, his hemoglobin/red blood cell count went from 15 to 9, they had to insert an IV into his femoral vein so that they could do a blood transfusion. They were going to take him to nuclear medicine to see if they could figure out where the blood was coming from, but we could see him for a minute before they took him.

We walked to his room and I when I saw him I started to shake, he was awake, eyes open, looking at me. I was so grateful that he was awake but he didn't look like my Andy. He was pale, almost grey, he looked so small, hooked up to so many machines, but at least he was awake. I sat on the edge of the bed and touched his face, he held my hand and I told him he scared the hell out of me. He said he was sorry, and I laughed because it was funny that he thought it was in his control. We stayed only a minute before he had to be wheeled off and it was back to the CCU waiting room.

In the waiting room I confessed to Michelle that I thought I may have left my hot chocolate on the coffee table and I was worried that the dogs would drink it. She volunteered to go to our house and check on them. It was such a silly worry at the time but she took it seriously. She left and went to our house where my hot chocolate was on the island and the dogs were fine. She fed the cats and offered to stay with the dogs who seemed upset by my sudden departure and absence. This left my mom and I at the hospital to wait for Andy's testing to be done. We talked and drank coffee, trying to stay awake and distract ourselves. Eventually my mom dozed off and I took to wandering the halls of the hospital because sitting was driving me crazy. I eventually found myself in the the hospital chapel. I should state that I have a very complicated relationship with God (that's a post for a different time) but somehow wandering into that chapel helped me get through that night. I sat in the utter silence of that small chapel, an island of serenity in a sea of madness, and I did a thing I don't often do, I prayed. I knew better than to ask God to save Andy, God will take those he chooses to take and if he was choosing to take Andy I knew I couldn't change his mind. I asked Him to please be with us all, to watch over and protect us, to help me get through this difficult time, to never let Andy feel alone, to help the doctors find the cause. It was a short prayer, but it helped me to calm my nerves. I stood up and read the book that was left at the altar for visitors to sign, many wrote that they were thankful for the healing of their loved ones, I hoped I could write that soon.

I returned to the waiting room and saw that it was nearly 1:30AM I decided to check to see if Andy was back to his room and he was. I got my mom and we sat with him for a few minutes. The test didn't reveal any bleeding, the doctors had decided to do a colonoscopy and an endoscopy in the morning, there was nothing more they could do tonight but let Andy rest. We left the hospital around 2:00AM.

At home I took a sleeping pill, got my mom settled in the guest room and took the dogs to bed. Normally they get kenneled at night but I couldn't bare to sleep in that big bed alone, knowing Andy was right down the road in the critical care unit. I couldn't sleep, though I knew I had to, even it was just a bit. Eventually I fell into a fitful sleep only to wake up every half an hour terrified I had missed a call from the hospital, terrified Andy was dying.

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