How it all began.

On Monday, July 7, he wasn't feeling well. He complained that his stomach and back were bothering him. He worked Bingo the night before for our daughter's baton twirling team, The Sparklers. He brought home food from Wendy's and flopped onto the couch. We went to bed. Everything was normal. He woke up on Monday morning just not feeling well.

On Tuesday, he was grumpy and complained that his back and stomach were really bothering him. He had the chills when we went to bed. They were so bad I told him I'd shut off the air conditioner. He said he was cold and hot at the same time, and wanted to leave it on but use another blanket. I grabbed an extra blanket and covered him with it.

On Wednesday, he was worse. He still went to work, though. He actually worked both of his jobs-- He's a police officer and works in two different towns. He didn't get home until midnight and looked absolutely horrid. He told me that he made an appointment with Dr. Rac for Friday.

On Thursday, he only went to one job, which is very unusual for him. The guy NEVER calls in sick.  He came home and sat on the couch. He didn't eat dinner. He went up to bed at about 7:00, and didn't come downstairs. I checked on him a few times, and he was sound asleep.

On Friday, he went to the doctor. It was the second day in a row that he called in sick. The fact that he called in sick two days in a row really worried me. He came back from the doctor and told me that his back was in such spasms that he got 12 novocaine shots up and down his back. The doctor prescribed Vicodin and Cipro for what she felt was a kidney infection. He was prescribed a couple of other things, but I can't remember what they were. He went to sleep at about 5:30.

He didn't wake up until Sunday evening around 7pm. Sure, he got up to go to the bathroom, but nothing else.

On Monday, he made his way back to the couch. He was crabby, snapping at me and the kids. He wasn't himself. He hadn't gotten his blood drawn the way the doctor ordered, and I went into nagging wife mode. He ignored me. Usually, when I nag, he does whatever I'm asking. (I rarely nag.)

On Tuesday, I had enough. He still hadn't gotten his blood drawn. His color was off. He wasn't getting better. I got him in the car and took him to get his blood drawn. While I was waiting, I called the doctor and told him that he needed to come in. My friend, Stacey, was nearby, and she came in to watch the kids while I brought him to the doctor. The doctor suggested he go to the hospital, but he said that he was feeling better. She told him that this was a warning sign and if he feels ANYTHING different, he needed to go to the emergency room.

We caught up on an episode of Masterchef and went to bed at about 11pm. He called in to work for the rest of the week. We went to sleep.

At 12:31am, he woke me up with, "Candice, you need to take me to the hospital." I flew out of bed, woke my mom to let her know what was going on and to listen out for the kids in case they got up, got dressed and drove him to the hospital. No joke, I dropped him off in front of the ER at 12:45am.

By the time I parked the car, they already had him on a gurney and were wheeling him into the back of the ER. I followed, no idea what was going on. I must say, though, I was pissed that it had come to this point. Why hadn't he taken care of himself? Why didn't he get his blood drawn sooner? I was livid.

And so that began our unfortunate adventure at Brookhaven Memorial Hospital...