I had some time this week to visit with a friend of mine. She’s quite a bit older than me (double my age or so) and we’ve known each other a long time. Some of the stories we tell each other we’ve told before but we don’t let that bother us. Sometimes, despite the hours and years of talking, we run into stories we’d not thought to tell. I knew she’d had cancer and a breast removed a few years ago. I knew she’d had her appendix removed in emergency surgery at age 86. But until this week, I’d never heard this story.
My friend was on a gurney, prepped for the surgery to have her appendix removed. She was waiting in a hallway with the anesthesiologist beside her. What they were waiting for she wasn’t sure, but there they were when a woman a few doors away came storming into the hallway. The woman was in her sixties and completely naked from the waist up. My friend says there were white round pieces taped around her chest from whatever monitors she was being hooked up to. She was angry and loud, with ample breasts swinging. The hospital staff wasted no time in escorting her uncovered self back to her room.
With the hallway quiet again, the anesthesiologist leaned down to my friend. “Should we worry that you’ll put on a show like that?” he asked softly.
My friend, one of the few senior citizens in the ER with appendicitis that year, says she doesn’t know what came over her. “I couldn’t put on a show like that,” she saidback, “I’ve only got one.”
Anesthesiologist lost the ability to speak. When nurses asked him what had happened, he could only point to my friend. He was laughing too hard to answer.
Saturday, June 29th, my husband and I had one of the most lovely delayed birthday celebrations I can imagine. That night, Boy two woke up complaining of stomach pain. By the end of Sunday, we were on our way to emergency with what turned out to be appendicitis. Due to the long holiday weekend and a little human error, Boy two’s ordeal was long, even by Canadian standards. Monday morning saw us off to a children’s hospital an hour from home where we got behind some fairly major emergency cases. By 2:00 we had made it to the list for surgery and met with a surgeon. Somewhere around 6:00pm on Monday, still waiting for a spot in the operating room, a tired Boy two observed sincerely . . . “I can see why they make you sign a paper not to sue them.” In addition to exhaustion and pain, he was very hungry. “I just want some meat and some oil,” he burst out a little later. “Mrs. V told us those are the things that fill you up the most. I just wants somebody to get me meat and oil.”
A little after 7pm the call came and we were at last on our way. Boy two was a trooper. The surgery went well, but he needed extra antibiotics and wasn’t well enough to go home yesterday. A visit from his siblings Tuesday afternoon cheered him immensely. We are hopeful, he’ll be home by dinner time today (Wednesday). The nurses and most everyone else we have met are kind and lovely.
As you can imagine, I have not been writing or even thinking about it. All prayers for a speedy recovery for Boy two are much appreciated. The hospital is wonderful but we will be glad when he (and I) can come home. The bees have at last arrived at County Road 21. Swimming lessons begin today. We miss our kittens. And we tolerate most everything better when our family is together.