A Worrisome Week

Wil has been suffering from a sore throat off an on for weeks. At the pharmacy there, one can just buy an antibiotic injection and give it to themself or have their mom (as Wil does) give it to them. I appreciate the do it yourself attitude, but I've worried throughout about building resistance to the antibiotics.

Last Thursday, Wil went to the hospital clinic and the doctor gave him an injection. Wil went home to rest. By Sunday, his throat was really sore again. Obviously, his job, talking on the phone for 9 hours a day, only aggravates this issue.

On Monday when I tried to reach him, he was in the hospital. At first, I thought, "Oh, he'll just get an injection and be on his way." Instead he was there for 5-6 hours. Finally, when he did go home against the doctor's wishes, it was after a day of several injections and IV fluids because he was so dehydrated. That night he explained that it would cost too much for him to stay in the hospital, so he had purchased the stronger antibiotic injections and his mom would give them to him for the next two days.

I asked what the doctor thought was the problem. Was it strep? Tonsilitis? And what had the doctor wanted to do to help him. His answer was not one that I had heard before and it sounded bad, putrefied sore throat. He said that the doctor had at first recommended surgery, but then had said that she would monitor it after the two days of injections. When I looked it up online, I was even more worried. Most of the citations were old, so I tried to look at them calmly. But, the other term for putrefied sore throat is gangrenous laryngitis. Yes, gangrenous. Then, the surgery aspect made more sense, but was even scarier.

Needless to say, the last few nights have been restless. Wil went to his parent's house on Tuesday morning. I was happy his mom was there to take care of him and give him the injections. Yesterday, his phone was off when I tried to call. I figured he had forgotten his phone charger at our apartment. Eventually I found Michael's phone number. I spoke to Michael in my broken Spanish. Then, I thought I was calling Wil's dad's phone number, but it turned out to be his cousin, Wilkins. He was very nice and spoke so clearly. He had Wil's mom's number in his phone, so he told me I could call back and he would give it to me. Then I tried another number that I had. It was Wil's mom. She handed him the phone almost immediately. He had left the charger at our apartment. Michael had already phoned him and told him that I was trying to reach him. It was nice to speak to some of Wil's family; and nicer to finally get to hear his voice.

This morning I couldn't wait to call Wil, but I wanted to wait until after he saw the doctor. I spoke to him as he was leaving the hospital. Wil is doing better! The doctor sent him with another injection for today and pills for the next 14 days. Whatever she saw in his throat is shrinking, and much smaller today. Yay!!!

I cannot tell you how relieved I was to hear that. I'm glad I'll be there in 5 1/2 weeks. Being away from him during this time has been the most difficult part.