A Quiet Christmas

I didn’t plan it. I didn’t expect it. But sometimes life just takes over whether you want it to or not. And sometimes, it saves your life. 

Ok, here’s the story. I woke up and felt sick. The kind of sick you can’t ignore anymore and believe me, I had become an expert in ignoring it for months. But on this morning, it was not going to let me ignore it anymore. It scared me enough to make me head to the local urgent care. 

Luckily, I was seen right away. The nurse, doctor and tech staff were all patient, good listeners and soon had a diagnosis. I had diverticulitis. Which, I have found out is very common in adults over the age of 40. A prescription for antibiotics was phoned in, a CT scan was scheduled asap and I was sent home. 

Two days later, I went in for a CT scan and the diagnosis was the same: diverticulitis. I was relieved. A course of antibiotics and I would be fine. Right? 

Emergency Hell.

At 5pm that same day, I got a call from the urgent care doctor telling me to go to the Emergency Room ASAP. I was shocked. Stunned. I tried to talk him out of it. He said, “NO, you have to go to the hospital. NOW.”

So, in a panic, my husband drove to St. Vincent’s. We checked into the emergency room. We found a bench and waited for two hours. Just as we were getting up to leave, they called us into an emergency room.

Next thing I knew, I was admitted and taken to the surgical floor. I was told I needed a procedure to drain an abscess in my colon. I was set up with several antibiotic IV. I was terrified. But I had great nurses, who helped me understand what was going on. A young doctor came in and explained what they were going to do. The next day I had a procedure to drain the abscess. By the following day, I was allowed to go home with many instructions.

Cancelling Christmas. 

It was a very hard decision. We had all the presents, food arranged but it was decided with my condition and little  grandchildren with colds that we had to cancel our Christmas Day celebration. I was upset, but I knew it was for the best. 

Instead, my husband and I just hunkered down by the fire. I read, sipped tea and looked at the lovely lighted tree. I talked and video chatted with my kids. Nibbled on holiday cookies brought by a friend. And tried hard to see the bigger picture. 

Goodness and gratefulness.                                                                                                                                                                               

Thank goodness for my husband for doing the heavy lifting: wound care, medicines, groceries, cooking, cleaning and moral support. I’m so grateful for my great kids who took care of the dog and ran grocery errands. I’m grateful for the kind nurses, doctors and imaging staff. I’m grateful so, so grateful to the doctor who insisted I go to the hospital, he probably saved my life. 

Sometimes life throws you a big curve.

Listen to your body. 

Be brave. 

Don’t fight it out of fear. 

Trust it.  And help it heal.