ACT 2, SCENE 1:
Having been scoffed at in no small amount by my boss last
week, and being called various things that I think I remember coming from the
movie Forrest Gump, on Friday morning
I finally succumbed to the unbearable pressure. I called and made an
appointment to see my family doctor about some low grade but constant pain in
strange locations of my body. I was able to get an appointment for this
morning—Monday. My boss stopped his rantings. (Advice for making your boss stop
his rantings? Call your doctor. Worked for me.)
ACT 2, SCENE 2:
I spent Friday evening in the ER at the Abbotsford hospital.
By Friday afternoon the pain and some fever had elevated sufficiently that I
gave in to the insistence of my family. (Daughter and wife. Grandson was
thinking about other things.)
Once at the ER, and I had described my recent escapades with
cancer and "excision" of a lot of lymph nodes, I think I was fast
tracked by the triage nurse. (It seems I now have a special, privileged status
in hospitals! Waiting time was non-existent.) I was quickly diagnosed by the
attending physician with a kidney infection. (My kidneys were infected, not
his. Just to be perfectly clear. He seemed, to my untrained eye, to be okay.
Although he was thoughtfully garbed in green, to match how I felt. Nice touch.)
Apparently with my compromised immune system and being a few
lymph nodes short of a full load, I'm going to be more susceptible to
infections of any sort and they will need to be treated aggressively and without
delay. This will be the reality for the rest of my days, or until Jesus comes
back.
So they stuck an IV into me and loaded me with powerful
antibiotics to kick start the fight against the infection. This, with a good
dose of Tylenol, left me feeling akin to something the cat had dragged
in.
I was discharged after a few hours with the instructions to
come back for two more once-a-day similar IV treatments on Saturday and Sunday.
Then after Sunday's treatment, to go back to the ER for a reassessment. If the
IV treatments were sufficiently effective, they'd put me on oral antibiotics
for the rest of the time. (Not sure how long that will be, but I was scared to ask.)
ACT 2, SCENE 3:
Sunday evening. Back in the ER after the third dose of IV
treatment, they were apparently not satisfied with the progress I'd made. So I
was prescribed the IV antibiotics for another two days. Monday and Tuesday this
week. Then back to the ER again for another reassessment.
ACT 2, SCENE 4:
I saw my family doctor this morning as scheduled. (And more
importantly, he saw me.) He's convinced that all this constant pain I've been
having in strange places for the past three or four weeks has been related to
this kidney infection. To us, that's a relief, in that there's little chance of
it having anything to do with the cancer or the surgeries. (Strange how an
encounter with cancer affects one's perspective on pain; sometimes it comes
with relief.)
However, I'm not off the hook yet. He gave me a two week
prescription of oral antibiotics to commence as soon as I'm off the IV
treatment. Then back for yet another checkup to make sure the infection is all
out of my system. (Assuming, of course, that I still have a functioning system
by then!)
ACT 2, SCENE 5:On
(Still to be written...)
CONTINUING VIEW FROM
THE BIG PICTURE PERSPECTIVE:
God is still good. His peace and grace abounds. I’m happy to
be alive. I’ve actually played three rounds of golf (although I’ll admit I had
to ride a cart and not walk the course like I’m accustomed to doing). My walks without my clubs are getting longer and faster. Progress is being made
Over and out for now. Gotta go to the hospital for another
load of anti-something-or-other. Until later…
Selah *
* This lovely Hebrew word is often translated in the Psalms as Interlude and aptly describes the state of mind which I’ve resolved to adopt for this hopefully brief period of time. The Amplified Bible suggests an additional possible meaning – Pause, and calmly think of that.
* This lovely Hebrew word is often translated in the Psalms as Interlude and aptly describes the state of mind which I’ve resolved to adopt for this hopefully brief period of time. The Amplified Bible suggests an additional possible meaning – Pause, and calmly think of that.
… Doug, as to your workplace. I also don’t want people wondering what I think. You are too diplomatic in Act 2 Scene 1. You are a pushover and your boss is a bully. I rejoice in your progress and can hardly wait for the all-clear.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteRon, I'm glad that you know my "boss" as well as you do, and that he's not really a bully and I'm not a pushover. (You had my little sister worried. She was ready to hit the warpath in my defense!) I appreciate his lessons in helping me learn to speak more freely—carefully, as graciously as possible, but freely. I think some of this comes with age, too. Less inhibitions! I will not soon forget the advice of my mother-in-law some years ago: "Stop worrying about what other people are thinking. They're probably not!" I like that.
Delete