Monday 9 March
Ok so it didn’t seem to matter how much my magic pill assistant wanted me to sleep last night because Martin was up all night vomiting madly! I lay in the bed knowing I should be by his side, rubbing his back and sponging his face, but my legs were weighted to the bed and all I could do was ask if he was alright. Of course he’s not alright – he’s vomiting madly!! I am wishing we were somewhere where they speak my language. If I was home I could take him for a shot of Maxilon. Even our dear friends in America had an injectable form of anti-nausea. I am not game enough to ask anyone here as we have still not seen a doctor!
The morning drags in and in a sense I am relieved to have to get out of bed and put that night behind me. Martin is looking sicker than ever. He has not got enough reserves on him to be able to have nights like that and not feel its effects. We dress and head down to breakfast. Wow – what can I say about the food here? I have no idea what anything is and I find myself wondering if there is a McDonald’s nearby! I decide to opt for the toast option. Only problem is – there is nothing to put on it! No butter!! Oh how will I survive without butter! My thighs will love me but my taste buds are screaming!!! I will never take for granted my trusty jar of Vegemite again. I sit at the table eating my dry toast – drizzled with a little bit of honey – dreaming of buttery vegemite toast!
They have taken Martin’s blood and urine sample and the testing has begun. I find myself wondering what it will reveal. After looking around at the people we are here with, Martin has to look like one of the sickest! The doctor finally came and did a brief check up on him. Felt his belly. Talked about his journey thus far and suggested that he may have GIST. Something which we had heard about in Brisbane but doctors kept dismissing. At this stage he thinks he would like to see him also take an oral form of chemotherapy, but wants to wait for the test results. In the meantime we are to wean him off his current medications and ask the nurse for anything for pain and nausea. Ok that is a big step for me (another one!) As much as I hate pumping him with morphine there is also a safety in the familiar! The catscan is booked for the morning and that is the one I think we are most anxious about.
We ventured out for a little while and took a walk a couple of blocks down to the beach. Definitely not a trip I think I am up to on my own!! I keep hearing the doctor saying that we are in a nicer part of Tijuana and I find myself looking up the mountain to the compound style housing wondering what it must be like up there. Here, in the nice side of town, there are litter filled streets, buildings in desperate need of repair and food stalls that you would have to be half starved to eat from! We arrive at the beach and find a little step to sit on. Workers are building a new sidewalk for people to walk along the beach front. It seems that even in Mexico the council workers are the same – lots of shovel leaning and talking. There is something very amazing about the ocean. It makes your seem so small yet so at peace.
Martin is pretty exhausted from the walk and the rough night so I tuck him into bed! I am desperate for some internet but cannot yet get it in my room!! Martin might be having morphine withdrawals but watch out – I am on Facebook withdrawals!! I manage to work out the computers in the communal room and feel myself reconnect with my world. Oh how I miss my world! After wasting almost an hour sitting outside and sitting on the computer I decide that I should see how Martin is doing.
There is something very disturbing about the environment we are in. I am not sure if I have cabin fever or not, but imagine this must be similar to that emotion. I am stuck in a small room, in a foreign country with a man who cannot sit still or hold a conversation! I almost feel like I have brought my grandmother with me! I do not mean to come across as rude or insensitive to what he is feeling, but for some reason today it is taking its toll on me! Martin is pacing the small bit of floor we have. He is like a caged lion with a sore paw!! He walks, he sits for 5 seconds, then walks again. I am beginning to worry about his mental state as he sits on the edge of his bed with his fingers up to his mouth and his eyes in a blanked haze. His movements are slow and dottery, but it is inability to mentally pull himself together that is wearing on me.
Between Martin having a mental breakdown and me unable to communicate with anyone I am on the verge of my own breakdown tonight!! I cannot even escape into the forbidden world of television because it is all in Spanish!!! We have not seen a doctor again all day. We do not know what any of the bloods have shown. We do not know what is happening next! I am beginning to wonder if the oasis is really a mirage!?!
A nurse comes in to put a drip into Martin’s arm. They want to give him some anti-inflammatory, pain and nausea treatments. Martin is not coping with the experience! If he felt caged before he is now almost needing a straight jacket to stop him from doing harm!! I am barely coping so I decide to go for a walk outside and call my mum for some venting time. I am gone not more than 5 minutes. When I walk back into my room, Martin is there holding onto the needle from the drip. He has ripped it out of the catheter!!! Dear God what is he thinking! I run and get the nurse who promptly comes in to fix everything up. I tell her that Martin needs something to calm him down – he is mentally coming unglued! She agrees. Don’t think anyone needs much convincing after his attempt at self-nursing! The doctor comes around and takes on look at Martin, then at me. I tell him that he is climbing out of his skin and needs to be given something to help him sleep and relax.
I sign a piece of paper agreeing to pay the extra $10. It seems a small price to pay for a calm evening so I sign away. The nurses come in and tell Martin to lay on the bed as she begins to set up the slow releasing drip of magic that will help him relax. He is obliging (just) which surprises me and is very quiet through the process of one nurse setting up the drip and another nurse checking his blood pressure. They say goodnight and walk out. I turn to talk soothingly to Martin to assure him that now he will start to feel better and relax. As I turn to look at him I get the fright of my life. His eyes are half open, but I could see the whites of his eyes. His mouth is open but there is no sound. ‘Baby? Hey baby are you alright?’ No responses. OK – not comfortable with this. I walk over to stroke his face and see if I can shut his eyelids. I figure he must have been really tired. Again, he does not respond to my touch or my voice. I begin to shake at this time – I don’t know what is in that stuff but that is one sleeping pill!!
I run off to ask the nurse if he is alright. She is also surprised that he has fallen asleep so quickly, but she is not worried. All I can think about is Michael Jackson (don’t even begin to wonder how my mind works!) I am sure this is the sort of drug he was taking to help him sleep and I am concerned about Martin breathing normally through the night. He is already taking on some strange deep breathing sounds! The nurse assures me he is alright, checks his blood pressure, promises to check him through the night and then suggests that it is probably me who now needs sedating!
The doctor is back in the room – he wants to know if I need some medication!!! I promise him that I have my own and you can be well assured that tonight I will inhale it!!
I cannot sleep. Crazy – the very thing I wanted was for Martin to sleep and relax, now that I have it I am coiled up like a jack-in-the-box!! The magic potion is only meant to work for 2 hours, I should seize the moment and sleep.
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