Reaux

Still hanging in there? Here is the last one for awhile. Rather a somber one, scared the bejesus out of me at the time.

Reaux

Lifesavers

Paulo is a diabetic.

Maine in its wisdom has recently decreed that henceforth all streets, roads, and lanes must have a name. Paulo and I commented on this as we drove north for the Memorial Day weekend. "Must be for those 911 calls," I ventured "What's your number?" "Don't know, in fact I'm not even sure what our road is now called" Paulo replied.

We enjoyed several days of fishing from the dock and eventually launched the boat, and all the while the dogs played, and ran and played. We eventually ran out of dog treats and Paulo went to the store and got some Milk Bone Biscuits (only thing available) which the dogs eagerly scarfed down. As we prepared for bed that night Paulo, as is his habit, took a reading of his blood sugar. "What's it read?" I asked. "Oh, 125, should be fine" Paulo replied. With that we retired with our dogs to our separate bedrooms.

Now, I'm known as a relatively heavy sleeper, and while on vacation a very determined one as well; 10:00 AM being in my mind's eye a reasonable time to awaken. At 3:00 AM I heard commotion as Paulo let Mulligan out, "Those Milk Bones must not have agreed with Mully" I thought as I turned and put the pillow over my head. Hours latter I heard Mulligan whining, with Reaux chiming in, in counterpoint. Then Mulligan let out a strange bark and Reaux started vigorously scratching at the door. "What the hell?" I thought as I slipped my pants on and went out to check on things. Then I heard . . .a moan coming from Paulo's room.

Flashlight in hand I knocked on Paulo's door, no answer. I tried opening the door and met immediate resistance, pushing hard with all my might I managed to open the door about ten inches or so. There, lying before me, obstructing the door lay Paulo, face bloodied, and vacant eyes staring unresponsive to the glare of my flashlight's beam. Mulligan his eyes reflecting perplexed concern was sitting by Paulo's knees, Reaux sensing something amiss huddled under a table in the far corner of the room. Rushing to the refrigerator I opened Paulo's emergency orange juice container, poured a glass full, unable to get the unresponsive Paulo to drink I dipped my fingers into the juice, and then stuck my juice-laden fingers into his mouth. Then in a convulsion he knocked the sucrose container (evidently what he was reaching for when he fell out of bed) in my direction. Hastily opening the container I popped a tablet under his tongue, then another. Still no response, I grabbed the phone and told the comatose Paulo, "You're not coming too, I'm calling 911."

For the first time in my life I dialed those magic numbers. I was in immediate contact with one Jeremy York at the Sheriff s Office in Augusta, thirty miles away, he was monitoring the 911 calls for the night. Jeremy asked, "What's the problem?? ?Diabetic coma" I replied. "Is he conscious?" "Well his eyes are open, but he not responding to anything." "Okay, stay calm, where are you located?" I gave him the new name to the road and then told him we didn?t know what the number was, the road having just been named. "Look all I know is that you head towards Castle Island from Route 27 and turn right at the birch tree with the green reflector above a red reflector, if they get to Castle Island they've gone too far" I stated in rising anxiety. "It's Okay, they'll be there soon, turn your outside lights on" Jeremy urged.

Gathering up the dogs, we went outside so that I could tie them up out of the way, and there In the distance I could hear the wail of a siren. "So this is what the lake looks like just before dawn" I mused as the loons called out seemingly in response to the siren's wail. Soon there where five EMT's in the house administering to Paulo, hooking him up to an IV and an EKG they eventually restored him to consciousness. They then bundled him up and after securing Paulo in the ambulance rushed to the nearest hospital. At the hospital Paulo didn't initially register a temperature, their thermometer being calibrated to start at 93 degrees, so in addition to being in a severe sugar low Paulo was suffering from hypothermia. After replenishing Paulo's IV the hospital personnel checked his blood sugar which read 29, this after the orange juice, the sucrose tablets, the sugar the EMT's had forced down his throat, and the initial IV. In the end everything went well, and soon Paulo was released and I drove him back to the cabin. We were rather subdued the rest of the week . . .thinking about things.

I am thankful to the state of Maine for their foresight in mandating that all roads be named, Jeremy York, the EMT's, the hospital staff, and above all Mulligan and Reaux for rousing me from my slumber - we came that =><= close.