First, I just returned from my follow-up visit with a PA in my primary care physician’s office. Everything looks good, but they did draw another tube of blood for the one-week-after comparison.
A male nurse named Israel did the stick. He and I had met twice before since my gall bladder removal two years ago. I like the young man. He also did a very smooth job of getting the needle in.
Now, back to a week ago today as I was in the ER early in the morning. After doing some initial interviewing and assessments of what might be causing my severe pain in the midsection, he left the cubicle to order a CT scan. I always appreciate a good “beside” manner on the part of medical personnel, and he had it.
Perhaps ten or fifteen minutes later he returned. He said I would be wheeled down to the CT scan room soon, so that we can get to the bottom of this; but he said it appeared to be a blockage in the bile duct. I, of course, was not making notes of his exact words, so the following conversation is to the best of my recollection.
He remarked that having reviewed my medical history—or lack thereof, except for the gall bladder removal surgery about two years ago, and aside from my present predicament—that I appeared to be in very good health for my age.
Thank you, I replied. I am not perfect in either diet or exercise, but I do work at it, for without good health, almost everything else fades into the realm of the less important.
Coincidentally, just this morning, a local friend called to check in on me. We chatted for ten minutes and then hung up. Within a minute, I received a text from him which said, “This hit my email just when we hung up:”
“The greatest wealth you will ever experience is having a healthy body, a peaceful mind, and the right people in your life” – Jim Kwik
Back to the ER doc, who then made what I at first thought was a strange remark, since it had nothing to do with my medical condition. He said, You look like you are some kind of distinguished gentleman.
He was not grinning or in any way revealing that he was not serious. So in a split second as I discerned he was complimenting me for some unknown reason, it occurred to me that you know what they say about flattery.
Being caught off guard, I was pondering how to respond and decided to tell him what my late wife Roxanne had told me on several occasions. (Tell you later.)
But before I could reply, he continued: I looked you up on the internet. There is a lot about you online.
Ah, I see, I responded. And I hope you will only believe the good things about me and not the bad.
“Well,” he said. “I saw a lot of good things but nothing bad. Why would there be bad?”
I said, well, then you know that I am a Bible teacher. And it is a fact that the way I understand and teach the Bible ruffles a lot of feathers of certain people. But if that stuff is not on the first page of web search results, then I am pleased to know that.
He went on. I did see something you were teaching about how Jesus upset the tables of the moneychangers, and that we are seeing the same thing underway in our present era.
It seems to me, he continued, that we need to get you well, because James, you’ve got more tables to upset!
To say I was surprised would be an understatement, and I was truly dumbstruck for a minute. But he was smiling, so I don’t recall that I did respond. The conversation quickly returned to the immediate business of what would happen today and tomorrow (last Tuesday).
Namely, that if the CT scan confirmed his preliminary diagnosis, that I would need to have a “procedure.” But that would have to wait until tomorrow while they wait on the antibiotic drip to reduce the inflammation/infection in the pancreas.
For those with knowledge of blood analysis, etc. my pancreas number was just above 2000. The normal range is ~30 to 50. (When I left the hospital last Wednesday, it was at 40.)
After the CT scan, I was transferred up to the third floor and enjoyed a pleasant evening and good night’s sleep. Well, it was not entirely pleasant as it is very difficult to sleep with an IV drip in the crease of your elbow and not to accidentally jerk it out if you roll over in your sleep.
On several occasions during our marriage Roxanne and I got to know very well each other’s idiosyncrasies. None of hers, that I recall, was an irritant to me, but I am sure some of mine were to her.
On the other hand, once I realized something I said (or the way I said it) was a minor irritant to her, I would sometimes turn it into a joke, by which she knew I had learned the lesson and we could both laugh about it. And she could dish it out, too—and I loved every minute of it!
For example—and returning to the ER doctor’s flattering comment about me being someone distinguished—more than once when I began to grow a beard, I already knew that she preferred me without a beard (It’s too itchy, she would reason, how can we cuddle like that?).
But I would have a week’s worth of facial hair, and I would teasingly ask her, “Don’t you think it makes me look distinguished?”
Well, actually, James,” she responded, “I think it makes you look more extinguished than distinguished!” Touché!
(To be continued.)
~END~
