The Saga of Sam

The Saga of Sam

Today found you and I in the IMCU.  I'm worried because these hospital chairs that convert to beds are starting to feel comfortable.  The channel 2 Toucan bird came to visit the children.  While interested, you were not excited.  I don't think that you ever thought of yourself as "sick", and he was visiting the sick kids.  Dr. Schwarz was now working on fluid control (big time).  IV lasix and liquid potassium was the medicine du jour.  The liquid K was disgusting and caused vomiting whenever you took it.  Dr. Cumming asked you if four medical students could examine you.  I was always amazed at how willing and cooperative you were with the docs and med students.  They literally waited for you to stop vomiting and then you tolerated their pushing, probing and palpitating.  After the exam, Dr. Cumming asked if you had anything else to teach the doctors.  You asked them each to taste the liquid K.  I thought that the four medical students were going to lose their 'cookies' right there in your room.  They switched you to potassium pills and no doubt will never prescribe liquid K in their careers.  Meanwhile, Dr. Schwarz had consulted Dr. Sternlieb in New York and the Penicillamine was discontinued.  You were moved to a regular room on the 9th floor.

It's panic time now.  You need the penicillamine, but react negatively to it.  No more routine clinic visits and medicine.  Times are serious.

Coincident with the diagnosis, great changes have begun at Westinghouse.  Like most American institutions, including Hopkins, we are "re-engineering" - re-examining our processes to identify quantum improvements in order to compete in the world marketplace.  In mid March, I moved back to manage Test Engineering in Manufacturing AGAIN.  By May 1st, we had combined this test department with the Engineering Test department.  Big changes to handle anytime, much less now.  Mom and I had already decided that if the situation arose, she would care for you and I would continue to work.  She had cut her schedule back considerably and I'd do whatever the day called for.  I worked as often as possible, but was with you whenever necessary.  I'm amazed at how much of my job I can do from the hospital room phone.  I actually miss very little time because most crises will arise at night and on weekends.  The secretaries at work, Wanda and Vickie, are good at keeping things under control.

New support emerges in our lives.  The old friends are always there, but two notable friends emerge.  Susan Finklestein from Mom's work visits often.  But more than support for us, she is a friend to you.  She brings junk food and magazines.  She gives you a hard time.  It is just what you need when everyone is treating you like fragile glassware.  You call each other "brats."  I didn't know Susan before, but I know she is special now.  At Westinghouse, Sharon Rubin stands out.  We've always been friends.  I have given her unglamorous jobs that really need to be done.  She has two boys, slightly younger than you and Shaun, and I believe she listens to my stories to prepare for her "little" guys.  But this story is unbelievable.  She listens supportively and encourages the diary that enables these recollections.