Part 2: The Post-Party Catastrophe:
I dutifully grabbed some steaming hot coffee and headed upstairs to find Blake. I found him curled up in the fetal position on his childhood bed, shaking violently. He had the sheets, blanket and comforter pulled over his fully-clothed body.
The prior day, Blake had admitted that he felt like he was coming down with a cold. His throat was scratchy, and he was a bit congested. Dreading a cold and not wanting to be sick for the party, he had started drinking some Emergen-C vitamin drinks and washing his hands a bunch (so as not to spread any germs). No big deal. But from the sight of Blake on that Saturday afternoon, things had deteriorated quickly. His forehead was burning hot to the touch. The only thing he would tell me was that he was unbearably cold (which was pretty evident from the visible chills). I ran back downstairs to discreetly steal his mom away from the party. She made him some hot tea (a much better choice than coffee), and I fetched some tylenol and a thermometer. At that point, Blake's fever was 104. Not good. We tended to Blake for a few minutes, and then headed back downstairs to pretend like there was nothing going on upstairs. The last few stragglers from the party remained. We told guests that Blake was in the bathroom (a very believable excuse given Blake's bowel issues), and apologized on his behalf that he was not downstairs to say goodbye. Once the last party-goer was out the door, Randi and I headed back upstairs to check on Blake. He was still burning hot to the touch but complained that he was freezing cold. In his feverish state, he apologized profusely (in between moans) for not making it to the end of the party.
After some discussion amongst Randi, Samantha, my mom and myself, we decided that Blake probably had the flu. Our diagnosis freaked Blake out because he was petrified that he had just exposed a whole houseful of friends (and some babies!) to the flu. We reassured him that there was no way he could have known and nothing he could have done. While Blake quite literally moaned and groaned in his bed, we all discussed Blake's fever and whether it was high enough to warrant a hospital visit. The tylenol alone was not working and his fever was hovering in the 104 range for the next hour or two. My mom suggested an old household remedy that my grandma used to rely on when my mom, aunts and uncles had fever as children. Desperate to try anything to make Blake feel better, we pulled out some rags, drenched them in rubbing alcohol and began to rub down Blake's neck, arms and legs. Although I believe that the rubbing alcohol worked (Blake's fever quickly dropped down to the 101/102 range), some after-the-fact Googling revealed that this method is frowned upon by doctors these days. So, I must include this disclaimer: rubbing alcohol on someone's body to reduce a fever can have dangerous implications, especially for young children, and is NOT RECOMMENDED. Nonetheless, it seemed to be a short-term fix for Blake in this particular instance.
Although Blake's fever was more under control, he felt like he was dying (his words, not mine). We were very worried but did not want to subject him to a hospital visit unless truly warranted. Samantha called some of her doctor friends, and they all agreed that he probably had the flu, to treat him with tylenol and heavy fluids and that he didn't need to go to the hospital unless his fever continued to rise. By late Saturday night, Blake's fever was still high and he had a horrible sounding cough. We pushed fluids on him, monitored his temperature and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. As the night drew to an end, I was forced to accept the reality that Blake would not be able to travel home the next day. Unless he had a miraculous recovery overnight, he would be too sick to fly. This led to much anxiety on my part, as I was not the least bit equipped to travel home alone with Ryder. We had not packed lightly, and I could not imagine successfully navigating the airport and airplane with my stuff, Ryder's stuff and Ryder in tow. Thus began a desperate attempt to switch flights around so that I could fly home with my parents. They had not booked their travel plans until a few weeks prior to the party and because of their tardy planning, they were forced to book an early morning flight. They were due to fly out at 7 a.m., whereas Blake and I had tickets for an evening flight. My dad got on the phone with the airlines, and after MUCH hassle and pleading, he was finally able to convince an agent to switch me onto their flight. I was unhappy about the super early morning flight, and I was even more unhappy about the prospect of flying home without Blake, but at least I would have my parents' help. At that point, I was worried about Blake, but I was relieved that I wouldn't have to travel home alone, I was reassured that I would at least be leaving my sick husband in the care of his doting mother, and I was convinced that Blake would be flying home one day later once he had a bit of time to recover from the flu.
I got VERY little sleep that night. Besides the fact that I did not finish my last-minute packing until 1:00 a.m. and my alarm was set for 4:30 a.m. so that I could make it to the airport in time for the flight, Blake moaned and coughed throughout the night. In the morning, I really didn't get to talk to or check on Blake because he was asleep. Perhaps taking pity on me, Ryder was superb on the flight home. He actually slept through 90% of it. We made it home, albeit short one family member, safe and sound.
As I am sure you have gathered by this point, Blake was not able to fly home the following day. Rather, I received word on Monday morning that Blake's family took him to the ER. I learned after the fact that he was having difficulty breathing, on top of the fever and other symptoms that were already plaguing him. To make an already long story a little bit shorter, Blake was admitted to the hospital and they began running a battery of tests on him. His original flu panel was negative, which shocked everyone (including the doctors). His symptoms were, in fact, so flu-like that the doctors ran a second flu panel, which was also negative. Within his first few hours at the hospital, Blake had a spinal tap, chest x-rays, CT scan and copious amounts of blood work. He was quickly diagnosed with bilateral pneumonia, which means that he had fluid in both lungs. His oxygen levels were extremely low, so they put him on oxygen (in addition to massive quantities of IV antibiotics, anti-nauseau meds and painkillers).
Although we were all a bit relieved to get some sort of diagnosis (pneumonia) and to see that Blake was finally being treated for his symptoms, there was still a heavy feeling of unease among us all. Even without a medical degree, we all knew that a mostly healthy 31 year old male does not spontaneously develop severe bilateral pneumonia overnight. Our concerns were fueled by the obvious efforts of the doctors to find an underlying cause for the pneumonia. From my perspective (a maddening perspective given the fact that I was thousands of miles away), it was apparent that the doctors were looking for something. I know they tested Blake for West Nile Virus and meningitis, for example. All tests were coming back negative/normal. The "good" test results did not provide me with any sense of comfort or relief, since there was still no explanation for Blake's condition. Finally, a couple of days into Blake's hospital stay, the infectious disease specialist decided to run a specialized flu panel that tests for some of the more rare forms of influenza. BINGO. Blake was diagnosed with a rare form of flu that generally only affects infants, elderly and those with severely compromised immune systems. Apparently, Blake falls into the third category. The injections he takes to manage his Crohn's/Ulcerative Colitis weakens the immune system and makes him more susceptible to germs that his body would otherwise be able to fight off. We were probably told of this side effect when Blake first started taking the injections, but it is just one of those things that you file away in your memory somewhere and don't think about again unless/until it become relevant in your life. Now we know that Blake lives his day-to-day life with a compromised immune system, and he has to take extra steps to try to protect himself (though there's not a ton he can do short of living in a bubble).
Blake's symptoms improved significantly on day 3 in the hospital. His oxygen levels bounced back into the normal range, though his breathing remained labored. On Thursday, the doctors released Blake from the hospital but forbid him from traveling until the following Monday. His body and immune system were both still quite weak. I was dying to have my husband back home, but I understood that staying those extra days in St. Louis was best for him. Each day, when I spoke to him on the phone, Blake sounded better and better. He was tired and frustrated by his labored breathing, but there was no question that he was on the mend.
The entire experience was fairly terrifying. Unfortunately, Blake has had several hospital stints in the 6+ years that I have known him, but all of those prior hospitalizations were directly related to his digestive/bowel situation. This felt like it came out of nowhere, as none of us had any clue that it was, in fact, indirectly related to his diseased digestive system until the tail end of the nightmare. To further compound the crappiness of the situation (on my end), I was stuck in another state and unable to be by my husband's side while he was bed-ridden in the hospital.
Luckily, this story has a happy ending. Blake made it home on Monday, October 15th. Traveling wore him out, but he was finally home, safe and sound. Blake's recovery has been pretty smooth. He took it easy and wasn't allowed to work much during his first week back home, but he rested, regained his strength and gradually morphed back into the vibrant Blake that we all know and love. Now, less than a month after the shit-storm hit (escuse my French), Blake is 99% back to his normal self.
Ryder sent DaDa a message while he was gone:
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