Thursday, October 16, 2014
Memories are made of this
Yesterday I listened, via the Social Media, to a talk given at the Center for Spiritual Living in Florida, by my friend Rev. Bob Luckin. The title was "Cleansing the Doors of Perception" and as I listened to his recount of experiencing a recent stroke and being admitted to a hospital, memories of my own hospital experience, just about three years ago, came floating back to me. I had been in severe pain for two days and finally around 2:00 am I decided I had better go to the emergency room. I had hesitated because I had no insurance, not even medicare B. For the same reason, I drove myself to the hospital and as the result was chewed out by the emergency room doctor who said, "I can't give you anything for the pain if you are driving". Somewhere along the line someone decided to take some xrays, which told the jerk that I had a blocked bowel and would probably need immediate surgery. Nobody told me that as I was moved to another part of the emergency room. When a doctor, who I had known for over 30 years came in he greeted me with, "Hey Barb what are you doing here?" My answer was, "You tell me!" He did just that and two hours later we again met in the operating room where he proceeded to take care of my problem, which I didn't know I had. I wrongly assumed I had the flu. Although he expertly did his part, my body decided to take its time healing and I spent the next two weeks as a captive in the hospital with a tube shoved down my nose, throat and it began pumping gross purple stuff from my stomach into a container. Inquiring where all this stuff was coming from I was told by the surgeon's nurse, "everywhere, your body was hurt and it is crying". Well picture that! There wasn't much I could do about the situation. I wasn't going anywhere, except to take daily walks around the halls. I finally decided that someone thought I needed a vacation from my regular life. I made the decision not to worry about the bill, which ended up being around $40,000,and enjoy the rest I had been given. It wasn't easy with that tube stuck you know where. I had a great time getting to know the nurses and learning about their lives. As a writer I was the one who had a captive audience. Before I left I asked a friend to bring me several copies of my first published book, Wake Up!, which I signed and passed around to the staff. It was the least I could do after being treated so well by everyone. My friend's talk was something I could relate to because, like me, he chose to consider his experience as an adventure and learn from it.