Safely at home again…I hope. The last two weeks have been
filled with enough adventure for me to last a long time. First, there was
Beatrix’ surgery on February 5. Then…surprise, surprise! There was my surgery
on February 10. You know, the operation that was supposed to be in March! We
have survived thee past weeks only because of the gracious help of some members
of Beatrix’ congregation, and out marvelous neighbours, Jeff and Matet. Matet
has cooked for us, and Jeff has driven us where we needed to go at virtually
any hour of the day or night. These two, devout Christians, know what it means
to “live in the Kingdom of God” as Jesus invited us to do. When we told them of
our dilemma, they said, “treat us as your family.” And that’s what they have
been: family for us while our own blood families have been so far away.
Beatrix came out of her surgery almost untouched – or so it
seemed. No bleeding, and no pain. She was able to walk with me through my week
at the “Maz” – the Mazankowski Heart Institute in Edmonton. I learned a lot
there: how to roll out of bed, how to live without raising my hands above my
shoulder, how to get up with my legs, and without any push with my arms. I also
finished my stay with a disturbing drug reaction, which didn’t seem to trigger
a response from the staff, so I was sent home at lest a day too soon. That resulted
in a drug reaction my first night at home, drug induced psychotic episode
during which a trashed the living room, ran outside at midnight naked at -30,
and got up at 1:30 AM to shave because I thought it would feel good!
That resulted in a trip to the Wetaskiwin ER at 4:00 AM, and
another eight days in hospital. Apparently my heart rate was 140 – about
marathoner’s speed at full gallop – and was in de-fib for two days. Special
Care unit for me, just one step down from ICU. As things settled down, I got moved
to a special room with wireless telemetry. Quiet, private, and restful.
I came home from that hospitalization yesterday, but was
back in ER late last night. I was experiencing back rib pain, much like a
runner’s stitch, only sharper and more powerful. A call to the Maz supported
the literature’s contention that this was “normal” post-op symptom. They
encouraged me to go to ER, because what was abnormal about it was the duration
– up to eight hours at that point. “Have it assessed,” was the Maz’s advice, so
at 10:30 last night I was back in ER. “You look familiar,” the cute triage
nurse said. And there I was until 2:00 PM today.
The Wetaskiwin Hospital is beautiful and very competent
place. They assessed me every which way, ruling out blood clot, heart problem
and cracked rib. They kept me high and pain-free on Delaudid (look it up; it’s
wonderful!). They ultimately pronounced it a “normal symptom,” and sent me home
with T-3’s and a laxative. I was also quite relieved and relaxed. Even though
the pain remains (not as intense), I know it t be normal, and I have the means
to deal with it.
Through all of this, Beatrix has been incredibly supportive.
She came with me to ER, and stayed until 6:00 AM before going home. I had to
wait until 10:00 AM this morning for the confirming CT scan, and then she and
Jeff picked me up. Jeff had a fresh Canadian experience today; driving on the
highway in brilliant sunshine, but with snow drifting across the roan on a 40
KM wind. He said it reminded him of driving in the Philippines with water
pouring over the road!
Home at last, 17 days after surgery, with a spouse now
beginning to rest and recover fro her own surgery, and with “family” neighbours
never to be forgotten and beloved in
their care. Enough for now. “More anon”, as Doris Black was wont to say.
Another day.
