TheBanyanTree: Spiraling Around a Black Hole

[Margaret R. Kramer]

We finally have achieved above freezing temperatures in the Twin Cities.
I’ve been looking out my window, squinting my eyes in the bright sun and
watching those piles of snow ever so slowly begin to shrink.  We’re in a
zonal flow with nothing but pacific air riding over us for the foreseeable
future. The arctic air can stay up in Canada now for the rest of winter as
far as I’m concerned.

It’s so warm that no birds are at my feeders.  It’s so warm that water is
dripping from my roof and gutters.  It’s so warm that I don’t have to wear a
big heavy coat to walk outside.

I can’t believe that some day it we’ll have green grass and flowers and
leaves on the trees and no snow piles to dodge around.  That day is a
possibility.

Along with the month of February always comes my sad memory of Ray.  This is
the month when he died.  I remember taking him to the VA Medical Center
because he was having such a painful bout of colitis.  And then over the
next three weeks, I watched his body shut down, unable to fight off the
numerous infections any longer.

It’s been three years and the pain is still there.  From my own experience,
it seems the first year is numb.  I barely remember much from that first
year without him.  The second year is worse, because the numbness has worn
off and I was acutely aware of what I didn’t have any more.

And the third year has been reconciliation.  I don’t like my life.  I still
wish he would have taken me with him.  But I’m reconciled to what I have.  I
can’t change it.  I can accept my life as it is, make the best of it, I can
continue growing and developing as a person until it’s my turn to leave.
That’s what Ray wants for me.

During the time Ray and I were together, he went into the hospital five
times.  I am no fan of the emergency room where we waited and waited and
waited for him to get admitted.  I think the longest time was nine hours.

I haven’t been to the emergency room for myself very much, but the last time
was about six years ago, when I was in Raleigh, NC for work.  I got a
bladder infection and went to the ER.  I sat there for five hours, because
as sicker people kept coming in, I was triaged to the end of the line,
because I wasn’t very ill.  I finally left and took a cab back to the hotel.
I was seen in urgent care the next day and got the antibiotics I needed to
get better.  How long did that take?  About 15 minutes.

Early this morning, Joe woke me up, because he was having severe pain in his
abdomen.  I take that seriously, because Joe had a quadruple bypass about
12-13 years ago.  Severe abdominal pain can mean a heart attack.

He couldn’t explain to me exactly what was going on, so I had him take some
pepto bismal to see if that would help.  Joe had no fever, his breathing was
normal, he had no trouble going up and down the stairs, and he wasn’t
fatigued.

We went back to sleep for a couple of hours, and then he woke me up asking
for some aspirin.  I got him two, and he chewed them.  Again, he had no
fever, no sweats, no visible discomfort.

Joe took several bowl movements during the night.  He said he didn’t have
diarrhea, but his stools were softer than normal.  I think he was having a
digestive upset of some kind rather than a heart attack.  I haven’t heard
that lots of pooping is a symptom of a heart attack.

When we got up in the morning, we talked about going the emergency room.
But Joe said he felt better.  He was having no trouble getting around.

I also pointed out to him that no specialists are at the hospital on the
weekend.  If needed, they can come in.  But they take their sweet time
mobilizing themselves, and meanwhile, you’re sitting in the black hole at
the ER, waiting and waiting and waiting for treatment.

I think I read a study, if you have to go to the ER, don’t do it on a
weekend, because there are no doctors around, except ER doctors.  

I still kind of wonder if one of the reasons Ray died was because when he
was at a point where he could have turned a corner, it was Presidents’ Day
weekend, a three day weekend for the feds.  There were no doctors around,
except the on-call doctors, who don’t extend themselves very much.  In fact,
one of Ray’s nurses told me she got yelled at by one of the on-call doctors
for calling him about Ray.

I’m a great believer that part of successful medical treatment is about
timing.  Treating cancer in the early stages.  Getting antibiotics for an
infection at a certain point.  Stroke treatment right away.

Ray’s doctor wanted to send him home on the Friday before Presidents’ Day
weekend, but he knew he was still too sick to go home.  I believe if she
would have monitored him and treated him through that weekend, he might have
turned the corner, and came home on Tuesday.

But she didn’t.  Of course, I was at the hospital that weekend, and I also
called the nurses to make sure the doctors watched Ray closely.  Yeah, yeah,
yeah, of course, no one did, and he started to slide down hill towards his
death.

That is my guilt.  I wish I would have made more of a stink to save his
life.  I should have pounded my fists and stomped my feet, but no, I’m the
get more sugar with honey girl, and I tried to be nice and polite, and I let
my Ray down by not being more demanding.

But I could tell this morning Joe was not an emergency room patient.  He was
too healthy and full of vigor.  I told him to check in with his doctor on
Monday just to be sure.

And Joe is more apt to take care of a physical problem right away whereas
Ray would curl up in pain in a fetal position and declare he was getting
better and fight going to the doctor.

I still remember the time where Ray was extremely dizzy and nauseous,
couldn’t get out of bed without falling over, and I called an ambulance over
his objections.  We were still arguing about it even as the EMTs were taking
him out of bed in a stretcher.
        
Joe and I were saved from the black hole today.  I went to Ashlin’s
basketball game, where his team won by one point.  It was a good game.  And
Joe went to grief group as a facilitator.  He’s been fine all day.

However, he should see his doctor on Monday, just to be sure nothing is
going on.  He’ll get better treatment at his doctor’s office than in the
black hole of the ER.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net
www.linkedin.com/in/margaretkramer

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.      
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning