Life in the Handbasket

This semester started with a bad feeling; I wanted to take the copyright class through my MLS program, but as it turned out, the expectations for that class were very high and I decided it might not be wise to pursue both that class and my Natural Language Processing class for my MA at the same time.

It's kind of a bummer because I'm finding the copyright class could have done me some good at work over the last few months, but a good call none the less because this semester has gone to hell in a handbasket.

One of the reasons I decided not to push my luck this semester was because my husband was showing signs at the end of December that he was having problems with a chronic autoimmune disorder he has battled in the past.  He has ulcerative colitis, a condition where his body attacks his colon; his last problem with this disorder was when we were seniors in high school in 2003.  That time, it got so bad that his digestive system shut down completely and he lost a third of his body weight, finally getting down to around 100 pounds at 6' 2" tall.

I don't mind saying here that when we were teenagers and this happened, I was terrified.  I honestly thought he was going to die before graduating, because he had lost so much weight and was so severely ill.  They had to put him on prednisone (a corticosteroid), and they were talking about having to remove his colon entirely.  The prednisone kicked in just as major abdominal surgery was put on the table, but I have never forgotten the way he looked when he was that sick.  He looked like he had just walked out of a Nazi death camp picture in my history book from school.  My husband did recover, but that fear is still very much alive in me.

So when he started having problems in January, he went into his doctor.  They started treatment, but everything eventually failed, and at under 130 pounds, with severe dehydration, diarrhea, nausea, bleeding ulcers in his digestive tract, and stomach pain, he was admitted to the hospital on February 19.  This time, they had started the prednisone early hoping to head the disorder off by suppressing his immune system, but it failed.  He was admitted because the prednisone wasn't working.  On February 20, they determined the reason the prednisone wasn't working was because a bacterial infection, C. Diff, had moved in on him in his weakened state, and they started him on vancomycin and put him in hospital quarantine, and kept him until the 21st to be sure his dehydration and weight improved.

One weak later, on the 28th, we had to come back in because he lost 15 pounds in one week to under 120 pounds.  He had all the symptoms as before, and some of them worse than the first time into the hospital.  Yesterday they determined that he had managed to get rid of the C. Diff infection, but the colitis has gotten much worse.  They are putting him on Remicade, which is another immunosupressant, to stop his body from attacking itself.  This one will essentially strip him of his ability to protect himself, because his immune response will be completely disarmed.

If he gets any kind of infection while on this medication, it could kill him.

Where is school in this mess right now?  I really don't care, and I really don't mind saying that I don't care.  My NLP class records the lectures, and the professor has given me permission to not attend the physical lectures for that reason.  I asked permission to skip discussion board posting for my management class (805) for my MLS and redo them later; I haven't really felt like the postings have accomplished much for me this semester other than being busywork, so they were one of the first things I cut.  I informed my database class instructor of the situation, but so far my work for that class has been unaffected as it is very reasonable.

I feel immensely guilty for my group project members in 805; though they have assured me I'm doing a fine job as a group member, I feel like I haven't been with them as much as I should have mentally.  I feel a similar obligation to my colleagues at work, and while they have also been very accommodating, I am now missing deadlines I had promised to keep prior.  I feel guilty for taking time away from my husband every time I have to go to work and school, because he is on a serious course of treatment now and we're both a little terrified that he could still end up emaciated, sick as a dog, and having to go in to major abdominal surgery in such a state.

This semester sucks.  And what really sucks is that beyond not wanting to disappoint the great people I work and school with, my job is a student position--I have to keep my grades up, or I lose my job and risk probation or rejection at school.  Truth be told, I am really liking work right now, and I take some solace in being able to get in my zone with my EndNote and ontology projects because they are something I can control in my life right now; they're real research, making a real difference, while I'm feeling frustrated putting so much effort into the management class for my MLS, which I just really don't feel that passionate about.  It feels very driven towards a traditional library setting, which isn't my goal (right now at least--I suppose it could be in the future).  What I am passionate about is my job, and then I feel super guilty for looking forward to the mental escape that work provides, because while I'm there and recharging, my husband is still in the hospital having to get morphine injections to deal with his stomach pain.

All I can ask at this point is that I pass this semester; I'm hardly putting in the effort to stay afloat right now, and I will be happy, even if I only get okay grades.  All I want is for my husband to get better and come home.  We just got our first letter from our insurance company claiming that they do not believe his first 3 day hospital stay was a medical necessity, so they are only going to pay for 1 day (unless we appeal the decision, which we will do, because it's utter crap to say it wasn't medically necessary).

But I am hanging on, and doing what I can, and that's all I can do at this point.

This too shall pass.