Llama, take your damn drama
The last month has been life altering. We dodged a figurative bullet. To avoid the TL:DR and to preserve my sanity, this will be told in parts. Writing this is already making me twitchy and causing me to relive those feelings. This may take a while.
February 13, 2014. Ace was on shift, the kids and I finished our last co-op session, picked TJ up at preschool, ran to the grocery store, dropped off the blueprint of our new house to be framed for my anniversary gift to Ace…and we were just exhausted. Winter wears on you and it hits you at random times. Princess Ahem had not wanted to go to choir for a few sessions and I generally made her go anyway. But I was exhausted, the boys were exhausted and none of us wanted to sit in the car for an hour while she had choir and she was on board with going home instead of going to choir. So we went home. I’m really glad we did.
I was sitting on the couch watching TV, only starting to think about dinner and how to avoid making it when Ace called. He sounded…weird. He sucks at covering up when he has something crappy to say. I knew immediately that something was wrong, but what? I had all the kids and knew they were okay. He wasn’t. He had gone to the hospital with chest pains.
He was on shift and wasn’t feeling well, after a run he felt unusually winded. Ace isn’t the most fit guy, but he doesn’t usually get winded (the only time I’ve seen him winded was when we were at Yellowstone, and we were all winded because of the elevation.). He’d felt liked he had gas and indigestion for a few days, and then it started to be pain and radiating to his arm. He said he was just brushing it off at first, because naaah, it was probably just anxiety. But when a walk around the house and another call didn’t make him feel any better, he called the other medic over and told him what was going on and that he thought he needed to go to the hospital. Their house doesn’t have an ambulance so they had to call one over from another house. They took him over to the best hospital in the city.
He was still in the ER when he called me. I get the feeling he had been there for a while without letting me know. Commence freaking out..but subtly and calmly, so as not to freak out the kids or let Ace know that I was anything but calm and collected. They (the doctors) still weren’t sure what was going on. At that point, they were going to keep him overnight for monitoring and do an angiogram in the morning. He didn’t want me to come down there, he was still in the ER and it was chaos. We started to make plans for me to come down in the morning. I scrambled trying to find a sitter who could come at the buttcrack of dawn so I could get down to the hospital…still not knowing what is going on, but freaking out just for good measure. All the horrible, scary thoughts ran through my head. I didn’t even know how to talk about it with the few people I had told. They asked if I was alright…Uhm, I don’t know. I still don’t know a month and a few later.