Bad Wednesday

I had a scary thing happen Wednesday.

I woke up early as usual, let the dogs out, made a cup of hot cocoa and got on the computer for while. A little later I fixed some bacon and eggs and watched the news on CNN while I ate.

I started to feel some discomfort which soon turned into a major stomach ache. Gas pain! I thought and started pacing back and forth waiting for some relief. Instead it got worse. By the time Carol got up I was in agony. “I'm going to have to go to the hospital!” I told her.

Since she doesn't have a drivers license any more, I drove myself to Newport and checked in to the emergency room. Surprisingly, I got right in and a nurse began taking my vitals. I knew there wasn't anything they could do for the pain until they figured out what was wrong with me, but I was really hurting. She tapped into a vein in my skinny arm, having a little trouble with my ropy veins, and took out what seemed like a gallon of blood for the lab.

After what seemed like an eternity, a doctor Graham came in to examine me. After poking and prodding my stomach, listening to my heart and lungs and questioning me about where it hurt he decided to schedule a cat scan. “How long will I have to wait?” I asked.. To my relief he said they weren't busy and it would only be about twenty minutes. Actually, it was only about ten minutes when the cat scan operator came in, helped me into a wheel chair and rolled me to the c-scan room. She and her assistant helped me onto the table and gave me instructions about when to hold my breath and when it was OK to breathe again. They injected something into the handy gizmo the nurse had left in the vein in my arm and rolled me in and out of the machine a couple of times. A few minutes later I was in the wheelchair heading back to my bed in the ER.

The pain in my stomach was radiating through to my kidneys and it was excruciating. I had had a gallbladder go out on me before and this was similar but worse. When the nurse asked me “How bad is your pain on a scale of 1 to 10?” I told her it was an 8or 9. I figured I'd save a little in case, God forbid, it could get worse.

After another eternity the doctor came back in with a serious look on his face. “I'm afraid I have some bad news.” he said, pulling up a chair next to me. “The cat scan showed a mass in your lower stomach that I'm afraid looks very much like stomach cancer!” I felt the bottom drop out of my universe. I already have been diagnosed with prostate cancer, my mother died from stomach cancer, my brother recently died from metastasized bone cancer, and my nephew was in the hospital in Corvallis being operated on for possible Lymphoma cancer, so I certainly have the family history to make me eligible for it. The look on the doctor's face worried me as much as what he had told me. I could tell that he was really concerned.

“Doctor Larsen will be in soon and we'll go over the results of the c-scan together and get back to you.” he said getting up to leave.

“Can I have something for the pain now?” I almost yelled.

“Yes, I'll have the nurse take care of it right away!” I looked at my watch and it was after one in the afternoon.

Blessed relief! As the Dilaudid took effect I began to realize why junkies and tweakers get hooked on drugs. The pain receded and I started to feel good, actually better than good.

My wife Carol and our daughter-in-law Donna came in, and the nurse filled them in on everything. I was kind of floating above the bed, happy to see them, happy to be pain free for a while.

Soon doctor Larsen showed up and we remembered each other from a hernia repair he had performed on me about five years previously. We shook hands, he looked at what the nurse had entered into the computer and after a little poking and prodding of my stomach, he left to confer with doctor Graham.

After a short time Doctor Larsen poked his head through the curtain around my bed. “You're going to get another c-scan! This time it'll be a high contrast c-scan similar to the other one, but much easier for us to read.” In a few minutes the cat-scan lady showed up with her wheelchair and she asked me, “Did the doctor explain the difference between the high contrast c-scan and the one you had earlier?”

“Not really,” I answered.

“They never do.” she sighed. “Instead of injecting dye into your arm we inject it into the other end!”

“Oh!” I said.

After enduring what was basically an embarrassing enema by the two nurses, I went through the c-scan with no problems, and was soon back in my ER bed. Carol and Donna were doing their best to cheer me up and then the nurse gave me another shot of Dilaudid to ease the returning pain.

I was floating again when the two doctors came in. Doctor Graham's face was covered with a big grin as he said,”We have some wonderful news for you!” Doctor Larsen asked, “How would you like to go home today?” The high contrast picture shows that it's not a cancer!” They took turns explaining that my gut has some weird twists and turns that confused the first pictures and that all I had was what boiled down to a heavy duty case of constipation.

After they left, Carol said, “You might as well get dressed so we can check out.”

“I already have my clothes on!” I said.

“No you don't!” Donna chuckled.

“Oh!” I said.

It must have been the Dilaudid, because I didn't remember getting undressed.

“While you're checking out I'll get some gas in the car and some Tylenol for dad's pain and meet you out front.” Donna said.

We made it out through the ER entrance in record time, but there was no Donna in sight. “I hope she didn't have any car trouble!” Carol said as we went back inside to get warm. When the ER receptionists looked up at us I said, “We like it so much here, we just can't leave!”

Donna drove up a few minutes later and took us home.