Apparently, I'll Do Anything for Attention...

In December, 2009, I began seeing a different doctor here in town. She asked to see me again in March, 2010 for the annual physical; in the interim, she wanted lab work, just so we'd have a baseline. I guess when you're 63, baselines suddenly become quite important to the medical community, as well as medical histories, etc. So Tuesday, the 9th of February, I went in for the lab work.

Wednesday, she calls me and is really concerned about my blood, or the lack thereof. She tells me I've only got 65% of the blood I should have, and what have I done with the rest of it? I feel no scars on my neck, since I don't personally know any vampires, etc. I'm in no pain; no blood is oozing from any orifice, and everything is the color it's supposed to be. I'm really fine; yes, I'm tired, and take a nap when I have time. But I recently retired from 36 years of social work--my gosh, I thought at the end of my career, I could nap with impunity! She wants to see me ASAP! We have plans to spend the weekend at Lake Chelan at Wapato Point, using our Worldmark points. But Thursday, I'm not whipping around quite as fast as normal, feel a bit faint and wobbly. Decide maybe to check with the doc before we leave town, just in case there is a problem.

At the doc's office, she does all the normal routine. Wants me up on the table, so I stand up with the blood pressure cuff still on my arm, and the pressure drops 40 points like a rock. Doc says I'm going in a wheelchair thru the walkway to Deaconess Hosp and get connected to a blood packet. Sheesh, lady, I'm really fine. This is no big deal. 'NO, you are not fine. I'll be over later to check on you.' Ok doc, whatever floats your boat...I see my weekend getting hazy in the back of my mind. The Deaconess staff has me whipped into a bed, covered with hot blankets and fluids running into the jacks on my arm in no time flat. I'm thinking this is a bit of an overreaction, since there's no pain. For dinner, I get LIQUIDS! Now, I'm SURE I should have waited till after the weekend for this appointment...I was well till I saw the doc! One unit of blood and 40 gallons of saline, 19 trips across the room to the bathroom, accompanied by an aide, a pole and pouches...and of course, all night, very sweet people come in and create more bodily orifices with sharp metal objects. Everything emerging from me is measured and analyzed for blood leaks. There are none. I have even more compassion for the people in Haiti and other poor nations, who are without food for weeks at a time.

Friday, the Chaplain comes in. We talk, we pray, she goes away. I wait for something to happen, realizing how closeby my t-shirt and jeans are--I could hop into them and be gone, and be at Lake Chelan in 4 hours...I know that my sister and my dad both did this and got away with it. But I'm just too tired. Another array of colored substances at noon; now, they're talking about an upper-GI scope, but the doc who will do this is in Montana or somewhere. No, just at Sacred Heart, but he won't be back till 6:30. He arrives, does the scope, aha! a peptic ulcer! Let's just fix that puppy (cold cauterization, I think he said, but I was feeling no pain...) and get this old dingbat her FOOD! Best dinner I ever had! However, the doc shows up and tells me yesterday's blood unit has evaporated or something, and I'm back where I began. Nuts! This little trek is turning into way too much of an odyssey!

Saturday; two more units of blood, more gallons of saline. Another wonderful night in paradise, more needles and smiling folks walking around in my sleep, except that I'm awake. I was having such a dream, too--the Olympic opening ceremony--music, color, the torch. Today, though, solid food for all three meals. I promise to take this seriously--there are other small perforations around the ulcer, which is not healed just because the blood has stopped. I must, should I ever be allowed to return home, vow to sit in my recliner and do very little for 3 weeks...I will give them my oldest and/or youngest grandchild, if they will just LET ME OUT OF HERE! I am very professionally courteous in my conveyance of this message, since they told me that if this is not yet sufficient blood, more units are at the ready.

Now it's Sunday; the weekend attending springs me, and in about 6 minutes I'm ready to go. Marv arrives and we are out of there, hauling a ton of plastic stuff for which we've paid dearly and will only use for transplanting flowers from now on. It's Valentine's Day, so we stop enroute to give Mother Brugh a gorgeous terrarium--she's happy to see us and glad that the color is back in my cheeks (and my face ain't bad, either!). Home--I only nod off 4 times while reading the paper in my recliner. Goin' slow. The phone rings about 56 times. I hear it 3 or 4 times.

Monday--Presidents Day. Have a great day off, all of you! If you're sick, DO NOT SEE THE DOCTOR! Drink some tea with honey and you'll be fine. Do not take anti-inflammatories for any reason--they'll eat up your gut and you'll be on red jello and tea forever...

New blog, old lady, ultimate fun! My 12-year-old grandson, when he was three, said, 'well, I got lotsa words in my mouth,' when asked by a new friend if he were shy. Like Seth, I've got lotsa words in my head, and such a love for my fam and friends, and above all, my Jesus--so today I will start to share some of that. It's a blind path, because I've never had a blog before, but my creative photographer friend Kelly has encouraged me without even knowing it. It's the heat of summer in Washington State, and I'm inside more these days, so there is time to write down some of my 'stuff.' Thank you for your interest and for putting up with the ramblings of an old English major!