Zora Update

Zora finally went to the hospital today. That’s good news. Her going to the hospital doesn’t mean she’s now worse. She’s getting better. The problem is she hasn’t been well for about 7 weeks now.

She’s being treated for "sub-acute endocarditis." With the actually buggers being viridans streptococcus. That’s a “nice easy bacteria to treat,” according to my friend, Jenny, the doctor. But it takes serious antibiotics to treat something that, as one doctor in the hospital put it, “is eating your heart from the inside out.”

Zora got a call from her doctor in the morning saying that the bacteria had finally been identified. We got to the hospital at around 5PM. For some reason (perhaps insurance?) she was admitted through the E.R. They took another set of x-rays and gave her an echocardiogram and mainlined her (that’s the junkie term for giving her an IV) and started pumping in the antibiotics.

She’ll probably be there for about a week or so (everybody is very cagey about the actual time frame). And she’ll have to have very major doses of antibiotics for about 6 weeks, best I understand. If all goes well, she will be cured completely (which is pretty good for a disease that would be fatal without antibiotics).

Also, because I’m sending this to a lot of people, I’d appreciate if you did not reply diretly to me. I’m doing well. But please forgive me in advance for not replying to say, “thanks, I’m fine.” I know you care. If you’d like, please leave a comment. They’re nice to read.

Zora is at the North Shore/Forest Hills Hospital at 66th Avenue and 102nd Street in Queens. Take the R of V (or any local) to 67th Avenue. Exit the subway on the Manhattan-bound side of Queens Blvd. (AKA: the Boulevard of Death!). Look at the map in the subway stop. It's a very short walk from there.

Visiting hours are 11AM–8PM.

I’m bringing her computer to her tomorrow. But I don’t know what the e-mail access at the hospital is. And please forgive her if she doesn’t reply either.

Zora’s spirits were higher than I’ve seen in two months. I don’t know if that was the quick working antibiotics, or just that maybe we can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

She finally got put in a room and I left around 5AM. I know hospitals are slow. But 12 hours?! I spent many hours at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore when I was a cop. But at least then I got paid time-and-a-half after 8 hours. On the plus side, I didn’t have to handcuff Zora to her bed.

For these 12 hours, we got to listen to lots of random beeps that kind of formed an interesting modern music composition. A few different tones that cycled off-synch ever so slightly. Again and again. And there were a few grumpy old ladies who keep saying “nurse!” again and again. On one hand, you want to have human decency and help old ladies who keep saying, “Nurse, I’m in pain!” On the other hand, you want to go up to them and say, “God damnit women, everybody is waiting forever here. Nobody has forgotten you. And every minute the overworked nurse comes to you in a futile attempt to placate you up is another minute we’ve all got to be here!”

It’s hard not to complain after say, hour ten. But I didn’t. I can get very Zen in situations like that. Our good/passive attitude got us thanks from the friendly and not unattractive nurse (pulling at least a 12-hour shift, I couldn’t help but notice). But it didn’t get us any special (read: faster) treatment. But if there’s one thing I learned as a cop in the E.R., it’s that nobody really gets special treatment.

And the guy next to us, a young guy who “got hit” on Monday, didn’t know what year it was and wasn’t too good on his name, either. I thought maybe I should give him a cheat sheet, just to help out. Nothing like the E.R. to make you feel thankful.

Zora slept for a few hours. I read a lot. If there’s another thing I learned as a cop in Baltimore, it’s always have reading material if you go anywhere near a hospital.

I also went out and got food at a pizza joint, the last place out there open at 11:15pm. Forest Hills is Queens. But not Queens in an I-love-Astoria kind of way. But Queens in a “You live in Queens?!” Manhattan-centric kind of way.

Here’s the hospital porn. Zora in a sexy gown holding a sexy urine sample.




And the ever sexy open back!



Kind of cold in the E.R.




I don’t have any pictures of her room because we got in there at 5AM and it’s shared with 2 others. The old woman across from her seemed very nice and promised me that she would take care of Zora. I’m kind of upset they didn’t give us the Honeymoon Suite.

On the plus side, I was so late I got to see the snow come down on the way home. And got to feel slightly smug that I don’t often have to be part of the standing-room only 5:30AM subway crowd going to work.

The 67th Ave. stop has one of those huge mezzanine levels I love. I always want to break out into song, whatever they sung in “The Wiz.”




And Astoria now has its own HSBC ad in their understanding-cultural-differences campaign.



Yeah. My wife goes to the hospital and I bring a camera. What can I say?