The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Where, oh, where has Patrick gone?

Tuna Girl here. Where, oh, where should I even start?

Patrick asked me to go ahead and update his blog. When I asked him just what I should say he told me, "You know everything that's going on. Just write that."

Knowing what's going on is one thing. Explaining it coherently for his readers and friends is something else entirely. But I'll do my best.

Some of you know that Patrick went back into the hospital last Thursday because he was running a fever. He was admitted and tests showed that he had an abdominal abscess located between his lungs and spleen. They attempted to drain the abscess with a very large needle, but that didn't work out so great and Patrick was sent to a room to try and fight off his infection with intravenous antibiotics (and lots of 'em).

The doctors planned to let the antibiotics do their work and test again to see if the abscess had shrunk or gone away. He was originally told that he would be in the hospital until at least Monday.

During that time, he graduated from his clear liquid diet to a pureed one. Although hanging in a hospital is never fun, he was really doing okay. He wasn't really in much pain and he walked the halls of that hospital over and over and over again. His roommate was a pleasant man. He had visitors.

On Monday he was told not to eat or drink for a while because the resident wasn't sure when they would preform another CAT scan. Unfortunately, they weren't able to get him in for the test and he had to start fasting over again for a scan on Tuesday.

On Tuesday afternoon they finally did the test and found that the abscess had actually grown. Again, he was not allowed to eat or drink because the resident wasn't sure what kind of action his doctor would take. Surgery was mentioned as a possibility.

As of yesterday, the doctor ordered him onto a no food or drink diet until Monday. I'm a little fuzzy on the details here but it seems like the foods and liquids passing into his stomach may be making the abscess worse.

So in order to survive until Monday, Patrick was given a central line. The line will carry a milky white mixture of fluid and nutrients into his body. Let's face it, he was a skinny little bitch to start out with. He really needs those 1700 calories a day. The port of the line hangs off his left bicep.

He's still walking. He's still smiling. He's still hanging in there. He's putting up with his new roommate. And he's as bored as fuck.

Luckily they agreed to let him off the floor and he'll be able to roam more of the hospital. He'll be able to go to the lobby and outside in the garden. I know he's dying for a little fresh air.

The truth is that he really doesn't know when he's going to get out of there.

Whenever I ask him if he needs or wants anything he pretty much tells me, "No. I'm fine." And he is. But I know he would appreciate anything that will help him pass the time. I keep telling you people, baskets of porn are the perfect gift. (Actually, I think he'd appreciate baskets of old magazines and maybe a deck of cards even more.)

If you'd like contact information, you can refer to this post from the last time he was in the hospital last fall.

If you happen to be a reader of my blog as well, you should know that contrary to the tone of what I posted yesterday (which wasn't about Patrick as much as it would seem) he really is doing okay. He's far from a life or death predicament here. And Patrick rolls with the punches better than anyone I have ever met. As his doctor told me, "We're taking it slow, one step at a time. He'll get there. He'll be just fine."

I know he appreciates all of your comments (he's reading blogs from his Treo), e-mails, calls, and visits. And when he does get home again I'm sure he'll have plenty to say.

In any case, please keep him in your thoughts. I know he's always in mine.

Tuna Girl - 1:23 PM -

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