Chapter 3 - Judith Was Wonderful When I Was Too Sick to Question Her
During my hospitalization, Judith did everything.
She brought:
clean clothes,
lip balm,
hair ties,
socks.
She learned which medication made me dizzy.
Asked nurses about:
electrolytes,
calories,
weight.
When I cried because I could not keep water down, she held my hand.
“You don’t have to be strong all the time.”
I believed her.
Ryan looked terrified.
He would stare at:
the IV,
monitor,
my stomach
like something catastrophic might happen if he blinked.
When doctors discussed temporary nutritional support, Ryan struggled.
Judith did not.
She asked:
“What’s the plan?”
“What’s the goal?”
“What can we manage at home?”
That last question became:
too important.
For a short period, I received enteral nutritional support under medical supervision.
It helped.
The goal was not permanent feeding.
It was stabilization.
By twenty weeks, I was doing better.
Still nauseated.
Still underweight.
But drinking more.
Eating small meals.
My doctor removed the tube.
Judith objected.
Not openly.
She asked:
“Are you sure?”
Dr. Patel smiled politely.
“Yes.”
“She’s barely eating.”
“She is meeting enough intake to continue orally with monitoring.”
“What if she loses weight again?”
“Then we reassess.”
Judith looked at me.
I remember her expression.
Not relief.
Distrust.
She had already begun believing that:
she understood my body better than I did.
Maybe better than:
May you like
the doctors.
---
