[Deserve]

Part 2

The ER is a sad place to be. No one goes to the ER looking good. It’s a wonder the nurses and other personnel are any kind of cheery with all the sadness around. Well me and my bucket get there and take our place in line. At this point we get fancy about the bucket and have taken to line it with trash bags since it makes clean out much easier. True to their word this particular hospital has the shortest waiting list. I’m there for about an hour before the triage nurse takes me in back and gets the litany of ailments from my wife.

I don’t remember it as a particularly pleasant experience. All I kept thinking is, as bad as I feel what do I tell this man to covey that. I honestly didn’t think I did a good job. I didn’t think he would help me. My wife later told me that I did a fine job. The nurse marked me urgent and within 20 minutes I was on a stretcher being prepared for a whole battery of tests.

I saw a nurse practitioner. He looked the part of a rugged ER doc. He had a military flat top, cargo pants and was very matter of fact. It was exactly what I needed. He zeroed in on the problem real quick. Given the distended belly and a couple of other things he thought I had a perforated diverticulitis. In laymens terms my colon had sprung a leak and was spewing bad stuff into my body. My body didn’t like bad stuff being spewed into it and even though it put up a valiant effort to clean me up my kidneys had had enough and were starting to shut down. All in all, this was definitely not the flu and I wasn’t going home. Finally after 6 days of being ill I felt like I was going to get better. I didn’t know that I was going to feel a whole lot worse before that happened.

The rest of the night before surgery is a blur. The only thing that really sticks out is the staff wanted to get an NG tube in me before surgery to start getting some of the bad stuff out. Whoever thought that a ¼” tube could be run through a mans nose down the back of his throat and into his belly while he is awake is a sadist. I cried for my daddy and meant it. That’s how bad it hurt. I prayed, and even recited the Who’s on first, Abbott and Costello routine. Only the sound of my sinus cracking is what stays in my mind. I knew I was sick when someone was willing to try that on me. Eventually the nurse gave up and decided to wait until I was under anesthesia. All she managed to do was to bloody my nose. I give her an E effort but her stopping that tube was my first answered prayer.

In part 3 I’ll take you through surgery. I need to go rest. All least now you know what happened to me. The rest is anticlimactic just interesting antidotes about recovery.