Sunday, June 16, 2019

Emergency room and beyond


June 16, 2019
“Seeing what lights up”



            The waiting area at the office of oncology and rheumatology was packed. Apparently, it’s hard as all get out to accommodate appointments for cancer and arthritis patients in one area on any given morning.

            Fortunately, patients didn’t have to wait all that long before hearing their names called. I think I’ll take the time before being called to explain why I was there. A month or so back, I wrote a couple of articles about my stay in the hospital for recovery from an appendectomy and removal of about a foot of my small intestines.

            It was just weird as all get out. In preparation for the laparoscopic removal of my appendix, the doctor cut three holes in the area of my inflated gut. My paunch was big enough as is, but he had to pump extra air into it. It just about ruined me.

            Well, as soon as the surgeon, Dr. Umho, sent his periscope into one of the three orifices he had created, he immediately spotted a tumor on my small intestines. I don’t know what he said at the time, because I was asleep. I’m thinking it was “Hmm.” The man came across as not being easily flustered. My kind of doctor.  

            What Dr. Umho ended up doing was cutting a slit from the apex of my paunch to and around my bellybutton and down to another area that I seldom even visit. He ended up feeling the entire 20-foot length of my small intestines, and then shortening it just a bit. Turns out there were two tumors. Oh, and he removed my inflamed appendix, as originally planned. 

            At some point after my recovery, I went to an x-ray place to get a PET scan from neck to toes. Before they could do that, it was necessary to inject me with some chemical that would make tumors light up when scanned. I don’t know what it was, but I still let the guy do it. Of course, I did wisely ask for his assurance that he did not get his training at the University of Pyongyang. Hey, I’m not a complete idiot.

            After giving the chemical time to reach all or most of my veins, the technician told me to lie down on a board and put my arms above my head. In that position, I was to remain as still as roadkill for 30 minutes! Like that’s possible. 
                                                                      
            It helped that I had recently taught a Sunday school lesson on the Apostle Paul’s comment about learning to be content in every circumstance. This coming from a person who had been given 39 lashes on several occasions; a mob had thrown rocks at him until they considered him dead, he’d been shipwrecked, and a bunch of other things. Yet, he said he had learned to be content under any circumstance.

            One thing missing from Paul’s list of horrors was recovering after having his stomach pumped full of air. I must confess that at no time was I content during my gaseous stay in the hospital. Yet, I was relatively content about being informed that more cancer was detected. While working my way through college with a job at a small chemical plant in Pasadena, I was emptying bags of asbestos into different vats and measuring out chemicals that had numbers for names. Some of the goo that got on my hands could only be washed off with benzene. I was unaware of any health issues at the time, but since then I’ve been waiting for something to hit.

            Kay let our family and friends know about the tests. Our church put me on the prayer list… a list that included names of several people battling cancer. Of course, as I said, I was not all that worried. Expect the worst and you won’t be disappointed. I have no idea why Solomon didn’t include that as one of his proverbs. I guess he pretty well covered negativity in Ecclesiastes. (“Everything is futility and striving after wind.”) The man had issues… and 1000 wives.

            But let’s get back to me. I was soon summoned to see Dr. Pachapala. After a few pleasantries, the man cut to the chase and told me that the PET scan detected no tumors. – It was at that moment I realized that my calmness concerning the possibility of cancer had apparently been a façade. The heavy weight of hidden worry immediately left me… and I didn’t even know I had it in storage.

            I used both my hands in shaking the doctor’s hand. And I held onto it for an awkwardly long time. He told me there would be a few follow-ups, but that was usual. The lady at the desk who scheduled my follow-up appointment was as sweet as she could be. In fact, the staff in the entire facility couldn’t have been nicer.

            While exiting the building, I caught the eye of one or two persons in the waiting room. That’s when I was hit with guilt from being happy in the midst of people who were in a bad way. Guilt is tied to Solomon’s line about the futility of life. I have since made it my goal to focus on another of Solomon’s writings. This one is found in Proverbs 3: 5-6. – “Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Lean not on your own understanding. Acknowledge Him in all  your ways, and he will make straight your path.”

             
                                                       end

You can contact Mark at hayter.mark@gmail.com

No comments:

Post a Comment