I truly intended only to follow my doctor-at-home’s instructions to seek urgent care for a small medical problem. I set off to a scheduled “zipline appointment time” at a Lodi facility at 10:30 a.m. yesterday. Now, at 7:30 a.m., 21 hours later, I’m in-patient at a hospital in Modesto, a town that I did not know existed until about 8:30 last evening.
Life might be a lot of things for me. Confusing, frightening, tumultuous, exhilarating, wonderful. Challenging, certainly. But never dull.
I find myself grateful for the thousandth times for the huge sum of money that I drop each month to maintain my health insurance. Thanks, too, go out to Pattie Whitaker for bringing my phone charger, computer, hair comb, and a winning smile. With the wisdom of hindsight, I wish I’d had her bring a few items of clean clothing, which I did not think the hospital would let me utilize. They would have; and now I’m feeling a tad bit grungy.
But it’s all good. I had to do a little tearful begging for answers at 1:00 a.m., from a nurse who did not understand the least concept about some of my more complicated medical issues. I actually had to ask her to listen for a minute instead of repeatedly saying “I don’t know anything about that”. Fatigue and fear loosed my tongue but I reined in my anger and simply explained, wearily but quietly, what I wanted to have them consider.
So I made it through the night. This morning, a doctor who has never met me and won’t have the benefit of my medical history will try to find a simple explanation for the small problem that started this odyssey. I’ll survive, and hopefully, without complaint.
It’s the ninth day of the fifty-sixth month of My Year Without Complaining. Life continues.