Summer 2018 headaches Part 3

Day 3 of 14 in the hospital with fungal meningitis. I was sharing a room with a curtain between us. 

The old guy on the other side of the curtain’s family was always there. They were really loud. Nice, but always talking, face time phone calls… It was like a party over there. Megan came to visit me, and brought a big bucket of candy for the nurses. That may or may not have led to my move to a much quieter room/roommate. Megan crawled into my bed and they wheeled us into the new room. 

Around Friday night (day 4 inside) I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything since Monday. I had been in so much pain, and in and out of sleep, that I never thought about eating. I missed the cutoff to order supper, but my nurse was able to find me a beef dinner they had sitting around. I picked at it. 

Saturday morning, I started to turn a corner. I’d had four doses of the daily I.V. medicine by then. I was still pretty sick, but I had my appetite back, and Megan came to visit WITH Ozzie! I hadn’t seen him since I could barely take pictures on the morning of his first day of school. 

I realized how blessed I am to be married to a nurse that morning. She clipped my fingernails, and helped me take a shower. I wasn’t out of the woods yet; I needed that help to take a shower. While she was there, another doctor came in to give me another spinal tap (it's how they monitor the disease). 

This ‘doctor’ (resident) was alone. Megan told him that she’s a nurse and can help. I rolled on my side in the fetal position, and this doctor put the needle in, but didn’t find my spinal cord. He had to try again. And again. 

And again. 

Remember when I said that I wouldn’t call spinal taps painful? This one was, because he went in and out with the needle many times. Megan saw the whole thing. She said that he did it over a hundred times. 

I said ‘I know he did it a lot, but if you had to give a real number, like if you had to bet money on it, what do you think it would be?’ She got a cold, serious look. 

“A hundred.”

He NEVER got the spinal tap. He had to send me to radiology to lie face down on an x-ray table so another guy could do it. 

Battle scar

I’ll also remember this Saturday as the day that I got my own room – all by myself. 

Things I'll never forget: My wedding. The birth of my son. The day I got my own hospital room. 

The next day – Sunday – was the Vikings season opener. I was well enough to shave that morning. Feeling a little better by the day, tomorrow would be my seventh day, and my stay would be half-over. I was missing Ozzie like crazy. Missing out on his first two weeks of school, but I was alive. 

The next steps of meningitis for me were brain damage, and then death. I don’t know how close I was to either, and I’m glad not to know. 

The second half of my hospital stay is less interesting, because I was getting better and better. 

I made friends with the nurses who would visit me every day. One brought me a stack of DVDs they had in a back room. I watched part of The Matrix and most of The Wedding Singer one afternoon. I’d seen them both in the 90’s and didn’t think they held up. (Actually I didn't like The Wedding Singer the first time, and still didn't like it this time)

Day ten or eleven - a nurse saw me walking around the floor and said “Oh my God! Are you Andy?!” She took care of me in my first few days. She said she never saw me with my eyes open. I didn't remember her at all. 

I had a total of six spinal taps in the hospital. They say the fungus is still inside me, only it’s dormant. It can wake up if it decides to. I get to have that anxiety now anytime I have a slight headache for the rest of my life. 

My mom brought me a big bag of candy and usually around 2am when I couldn’t sleep (steroid insomnia), I’d get up and munch on it. From not eating anything for four days I lost at least 20 pounds. I could afford to eat a little junk in the middle of the night. 

My last day in the hospital – stupid Dr. Smythe was the doctor on my floor. He came into my room and told me that he reported my case to the CDC. I was the 26th person (ever) to contract this meningitis the way I did. There is no prize for this.

Because stupid Dr. Smythe kept me on the (unnecessary) steroids for so long, I came down with clinical depression. I was well the day I left the hospital, but fell into a deep depression in the following weeks/months at home recovering. 

You can’t just stop taking steroids. That would really shock your system. You have to step down slowly. 

I was finally off them by Thanksgiving, and didn’t feel back to myself until early 2019. This had nothing to do with the meningitis. The extended illness (myriad steroid side effects) was completely courtesy of stupid Dr. Smythe. 

He left the clinic where I saw him, and I like to think that he’s a (bad) night manager at a Dairy Queen now. 

Time for the fun game. 

Wanna guess what the total bill for this 14-day all-inclusive stay in the hospital was? Put your guess in the comments.