I’ve had some more hard lessons to learn in the last two weeks. Life never gives you a break.
Nearly two weeks ago, my husband and I were on the road to Des Moines. We were on our way to take in my first Michael Buble concert. I’m a huge fan, and have been obsessed with the thought of seeing him live for a couple of years now. Thanks to the patience of my sweet husband and his desire to please me, I was finally getting my chance.
Little Balls of Evil
We hit the road at about 10:00AM on a Thursday morning, excited to spend our summer “vacation”… our one night in Des Moines… together. We decided to give ourselves a “break” from healthy eating for the trip, and decided that our first indulgence would be a delicious baked good from Granny Donuts in St. Paul. I don’t typically eat donuts anymore, but if I’m going to have one, it HAS to be from Granny Donuts – they are perfection. We made our planned stop on the way out of town, made our selections, and as we were leaving, the cheerful, eccentric owner dished us up each two complimentary donut holes to enjoy on the spot. We popped the tasty, glazed balls of dough into our mouths (“Mmmmm!”) and headed out again.
My husband needed to take a business phone call in the car at about 11:00 AM (par for the course when you’re a business owner), during which I noticed he was clutching his abdomen with a look of great discomfort, if not pain. I was concerned, as it continued through the duration of the call (at least 20 minutes). Once he completed the call, we discussed what was going on. He described pain in his upper abdomen, just under his chest, and described it as a feeling of “pressure”. I recognized the symptoms as gallbladder trouble right away, as I had mine out in 2004.
TC (my hubby) felt he could continue on, so we did. We eventually stopped for lunch at a McDonald’s in Medford, MN — and I tell you, that quarter pounder with cheese simply proved to be too much for his weakened digestive system to bear. Long story short, after calls to our doctor for advice and us stubbornly attempting to carry on south, we ended up turning around to come home, and making it nowhere close to home. My husband’s pain became so severe, I worried it would be necessary to call an ambulance. Thankfully, we passed a brand new, what appeared to be state-of-the-art hospital facility just off the interstate in Owatonna, MN. At first we passed it, then thought better of it and turned around at the next exit, since we were heading to an ER anyway.
A few terrible hours in the ER turned into two days in Owatonna Hospital. Then a transfer by ambulance to the Twin Cities (Abbott Northwestern, to be exact), which turned into four more terrible days in an inner city hospital, not terribly close or convenient to home. TC ended up having a scope to look for a gallstone in the common bile duct. No stone was found, but due to the wicked case of pancreatitis and concern over his high white blood count (that signifies infection), it was assumed that a stone had passed through the bile duct, created havoc, and finally passed out through the intestine. Finally, his gallbladder was removed to prevent this from occurring again, and we were able to go home the following day.
It is a relief to be at home, but I’m finding it difficult to get back to my regular nutrition and exercise routine. Abbott Northwestern hospital offers surprisingly few options for healthy eating. The cafeteria was down in the basement (yuck), and the food just didn’t look appetizing, and the other option downstairs was a 24-hour McDonald’s (!) — truly the LAST place I wanted to eat after this episode, but due to the oddball hours we were keeping (large hospitals like Abbott schedule surgeries late into the night — TC didn’t go into the OR until 12:14 AM), I had to resort to a couple of meals there, due to my own poor planning. I did find a cafe on the second floor that was a little better, where I could at least get a cold turkey sandwich on whole wheat, fresh soup and sort of fresh, prepared salads during the daytime hours. And, they had Caribou Coffee — the premium fuel that kept me going!
I am still trying to wrap my head around what I’ve learned from this experience. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still feeling sorry for myself over missing my big summer concert event that I’d looked forward to for months… but I am thankfully able to see the big picture, too. I am filled with gratitude to have my husband home again, and healing. I’m so grateful for the competent, compassionate care of his doctors — these people are the cream of the healthcare crop. His nursing was hit and miss in the aspect of compassion, but I never felt like he was in the care of someone who was incompetent, and that is a great blessing.
I’ve also learned that I am better and stronger in a crisis than I ever used to be, which is surprising to discover when you are going through this sort of ordeal with the person you love most in the world! I used to be one who panics at the mere thought of my loved one in a medical emergency, even when surrounded by support. This time, TC and I were alone for the most part (one dear friend paid me a visit on the afternoon of TC’s scope), but I felt so at peace with everything. TC’s family is elderly and uncomfortable with driving into the city – plus they were packing for a move that occurred the day after we came home. I would have loved more support, but I surprised myself in that I remained calm and felt that everything would be okay on the other side this struggle, and I experienced an unusually minor amount of worry. I can’t help but wonder if this is due to me being more in control of my own health… or me becoming more reliant on my Creator and my faith. I hope it’s a little of both.
Two things I do know right now: Today is will be my first day back to the gym in more than TWO WEEKS, and I am feeling so excited to see my friends Herm and Sharon, and so blessed to get to train with them. They never give up on me! And the other thing: Donut holes are little balls of evil! Â :)
