The Wake-Up Call

And that’s an understatement. There were no words written this week. However, there was a lot of moaning, whining, and clutching of my stomach. I know, not the best way to spend a week. And I wasn’t being overdramatic. I don’t care what the girls say. It hurt like hell.


Yeah, see two weeks ago, I was under the weather, which if you’re in our reading group on Facebook - Feel-Good Reads - then you already know that. Then I had an outpatient procedure, and well, things went downhill from there. After spending four more days in agony with major stomach issues and constant hurling, the girls finally convinced me to go to the emergency room. Of course, I had to take a shower first, and then I allowed them to stuff me in the van and hand me over for someone else to figure out what was wrong. I was transferred to another hospital - in another county!!! It seems the staffing issue is not just with restaurants.


It’s also interesting how so many places have different rules when it comes to Covid. At the first hospital, all three ladies were permitted with me in the emergency room and would have been able to go to the room if I had been admitted there, and one of them would have been able to spend the night. At the new hospital, only one at a time could be with me in either the ER or the room I was finally stuck in. At eight o’clock, everyone was ushered out, and I was alone. I’ve never really been alone outside of our house and the girls on a shopping spree, so this was sort of different. Quiet. Eerily so.


The bed sucked, so I took my pillows and blanket and slept on the couch, which the nurses thought was funny. Didn’t matter to me. Get real mattresses in there. The staff was great, even though they had been told to starve me for two days. Su


nday, I got clear liquids, which for those who don’t know doesn’t really mean clear. I don’t know what it means besides nasty, to be honest. I had broth: chicken broth, beef broth, and for breakfast Monday morning, vegetable broth. Oh, yay! I also had Italian ice, strawberry Jell-O, and unsweet tea. The tea I actually liked.


From clear liquids, it went to full liquids, which meant I got thicker soups, yogurt, and ice cream. At least I was moving in the right direction. It wasn’t until Tuesday afternoon I got real food, and by the late-afternoon, I was finally on my way home. We’re hoping everything is back in place, but to be honest, no one is really sure. My body acts one way and the x-rays show something different. I could explode at any moment or not at all. It’ll be an interesting few days ahead.


However, I did take the time to decompress. I didn’t worry about my To Do List or the daily word count, which for those who really know me, for me not to do either of those things is totally out of character. I spent my time reading and listening to Dean Martin songs. The girls visited, and we chatted about my health and changes we needed to make, and I talked with the nurses and took walks around the floor. These parts were wonderful, even if the bed did suck. I met a CNA, Barbara, who had worked at this one hospital for forty-nine years! In today’s world that’s unheard of. I also met several other fantastic people, like Amanda, Lara, and Georgette, who would spend fifteen or twenty minutes with me just chatting up a storm. It all made the time go by faster.


So, all of this to say, I’m going to be taking more decompression periods in the future, as well as working on my health more. Words are important, but not if I wind up back in the hospital. So a few books are pushed back a month or two, but that’s all right. It gives me time to make them even better. This past week was another wake-up call, the first one for me, really.


How about you? Have you had one of those yet? If so, I’d love to hear about it. Hit the reply button and send me a note.

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