Somehow the days got away from me and a week went by with nothing written. And then, last weekend, Matt ended up in the hospital, and I didn’t care about anything else then.
He’s home now, thank goodness, and is going to be fine. But those few days when he was in the hospital were scarier than I anticipated. At no time was he in danger, really. He developed a condition called rhabdomyolysis, which essentially means he worked out too hard last Friday. He did it to himself, but luckily was aware of the symptoms of this condition and knew by Sunday that he had to get checked. After a blood test in the Emergency Room, he was admitted.
In the 13 years we’ve been together, Matt has never had to go to the hospital unexpectedly because something was wrong with HIM. We’ve had plenty of emergency room visits with children, but not for either of us. When he left on Sunday night, I felt a weird whoosh of fear. He is not supposed to get sick. I rely on him. This whole operation we’ve got going does not work without him.
He was fine though. Although he needed to be on IVs to maintain his fine-ness, and although he was, and is, sore, he was okay throughout the whole thing. And I was okay too. The kids were a bit freaked out, Gabe especially, but on the whole we maintained normalcy. I cannot imagine the difficulties faced by families with issues much more serious than what we dealt with. It’s a reminder that we are very, very lucky and should not take our good fortune for granted for even a second.
Now, though, I’m just glad Matt’s home. And if I have to follow him around smacking weights out of his hands and tie him to the couch to make him take it easy, so be it. I guarantee you this same thing won’t happen again on my watch.
Man, I love this guy. And I’m really glad he’s back where he belongs.