Never say the worst has happened.....

 Back in August of 2012 the 14^th to be specific, I was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.  For the previous 24 hours I had been experiencing increasing abdominal pain, which eventually led to vomiting and fever.  For most of the time I assumed it was food poisoning and tried to ride it out.  Finally I contacted my doctor who insisted I be seen at a walk in or emergency clinic.  I did that and had a CAT scan which resulted in an ambulance coming to take me to Lawrence Hospital. 

In the emergency room I was joined by my gastroenterologist, Dr Feingold.  In his typical reassuring style he told me a surgeon was on the way and I would be fine.  My good friend Maryliz came to keep me company and signed as medical proxy.  Dr Kerin arrived some time later, the surgeon was also reassuring and told me the prognosis was excellent but I would have a colostomy for the next three months.

No idea how I kept calm, but I did.  Gave Maryliz details of my will, how to reach the lawyer and she made arrangements to care for my dog.  The doctor had a ECG and chest xray done and I was in the OR within an hour of entering the ER.

The next 6 days spent in the hospital, were a mixed bag, no pun intended.  For the first few days I lay in the dark and refused any attempts to cheer me up.  I needed the space to process what had happened to me.  Then I dealt with the ostomy bag, the change in diet and the future.  Finally I went home and was grateful for my friends, neighbors, local services and the grounds of my coop where I could sit and bask in being alive.

I went back to work after two weeks at home and established a sort of normalcy.  One of the amazing things was finding out how common this is.  Seems almost everyone I spoke to knew someone who had a similar experience, and recovered well.   The focus for me was on the reversal of the surgery and having my life back.

November 16^th I was again in Lawrence Hospital for surgery.  Dr Kerin was 3 hours late but the procedure went well.  The recovery from this is more of a challenge than I was prepared for.  My current struggle is to be grateful for the outcome and tolerate the process.  Pain has receded, bowels are functioning, but there is draining, odd pains and sadness.  I can drive a car, I hope to work on Monday and one day I will ride my horse again.  A friend has offered his guest house in Florida in February whenever I want it.  Thank you, for the friends, the doctor, small savings, the future I still have. Thank you.

Here I am four weeks out from surgery and still struggling to be grateful.  I learned from the ECG that sometime in the past year or so I had a silent heart attack.  Hopefully the silent part means it did little damage.    I haven’t ridden my horse in forever, the longer the time takes the harder it is to picture riding again.  Judy, the farm owner and mentor on all things horse, says it is like riding a bike, but this is not my old bike. 

Loneliness is creeping in, financial worries are also knocking but in reality I have enough for several months if not longer.  Probably the after effects of this entire trauma are conspiring to sadden me, it is the holidays, after all I time of universal depression.

What to do after the worst happens

It is almost four weeks since we put our horse down.  He suddenly got very ill and took a turn for the worse and we put him down all in less than twenty four hours.  A horror story that will haunt me for years.

There is a hole in my whole since he is gone and the struggle now is finding a way to heal.  I work, plan activities and look at the possibilities of doing this all over again.

On a different path, I have satellite radio in my car now.  When driving home from NJ after a day of dealing with the pain of other peoples' lives, I listen to "Classic Radio".  This station plays radio programs dating back to before I was born and later.  So tonight I found myself driving across the GW bridge listening to Jack Benny. Now here is the weird part, my senses filled with the smell and taste of chicken chow mein, something I have not eaten in many years.  Back  in time my parents and I would be driving home from some Sunday outing and cross this same bridge and listen to Jack Benny, my Dad the most over cautious of drivers would chuckle and the show, while clutching the wheel of our Studebaker, pea green, two door sedan nervous that if he laughed too hard he would lose control.

My mother would be giving directions about dinner.  She would ask him to stop at Tom's Inn on the Concourse, he would get out to get dinner and she would drive the car home to be ready when he walked in.

Dinner was always the same, chicken chow mein, one egg roll, fried rice and spare ribs.  She would stretch dinner by making her own rice, cutting the egg roll in three pieces and make her own tea.  It was a Sunday treat which, apparently, my memory connected to the radio show.  Here I was at 67 savoring the smells and tastes of a meal I hadn't had in almost 60 years.

So I think the two thoughts, horse and Jack Benny are connected.  I went back to a very peaceful time when all I had to do was sit in the back seat and let the grown ups make the decisions and the world was simple.  Nice little break