Miracle #2
November 11, 2009 by Daniel · Leave a Comment
I was awake when the tech from x-ray arrived. “I beat you this morning,” I said, laughing.
“Believe me, you’re the exception, not the rule, especially this early,” he replied. “Ready to go?”
“Yep, let’s get this over with. I’ve got a busy day planned.” He confirmed my identity and off I went – again.
As we got onto the elevator, I asked, “so why are they doing this EVERY day?”
“Gotta make sure the fluid’s not building up any more,” he answered. But with all the medication they had begun to dump in my body, there was nothing that was going to build up. We reached the radiology hallway, he locked my wheels, and turned to go. “May take me a little longer today,” he said, “we’re short-handed.”
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I had to learn to bring a book with me. Sure enough, that day’s little adventure would take almost an hour before I even had the x-rays taken. It’s not like my dance card was full; still, sitting in a basement hallway with next-to-nothing on at 6 a.m. is not my idea of a good time.
Upon arriving back to the room, I found my breakfast waiting on me. Powdered eggs, some toast, black coffee and fresh fruit. It wasn’t what I was used to, but it would do. I knew I had started losing weight; how much, I didn’t know. It would only take two weeks for me to lose 30 pounds (ah, that diabetic diet!), including the fluid that had made believe I was just getting fat.
Belinda came in around 11. “You feeling all right, today?” she asked.
“I’m a little sore from yeserday’s exploration,” I replied, “but really ready to get this over with.”
“I don’t think they’re going to let you out of here any time soon,” she said. “You DO realize how sick you are, don’t you?”
“I’m beginning to,” I answered. “Thank God John has been through this before with his mom, and already knows the drill, although quite frankly, he’s not telling me a lot.”
“‘Probably best to keep it a surprise,” she laughed. “The less you know right now, the better.”
“Speak of the devil,” I said. The door opened and John came in with some mail and more material to read.
“This is from Jennifer,” he said, “she said she couldn’t get here, she’d send a reminder to you anyway. She’ll be visiting on Sunday after church.” I looked through the bag at the magazines, and oddly, a box of Bazooka bubble gum.
“What’s the gum for?” I asked.
“She said that would keep you from going crazy,” he replied, “although I told her it was a little late for that. Oh, by the way. I have some more good news.”
Belinda spoke up. “You need me to step outside while you guys talk?” she asked.
“No, stay here,” he motioned. “I’ve so far talked to the cardiologist, the anesthiologist and the surgeon, and they’re all reducing their fees.” He paused. “I know we’re going to be good, now.”
“That’s wonderful!” I exclaimed. “I don’t know how you’re doing this, but I know I couldn’t do it without you.”
“What most people don’t know,” he continued, “is that this is available to everybody. If you don’t have coverage, you can negotiate the fees up front; most physicians will at least reduce their charges, especially with so many people without health insurance.”
“Somebody needs to advertise that,” Belinda quipped. “Something’s got to be done.”
So there we were, the Three Musketeers, waiting on the next chapter of this great adventure. Two days earlier I had been stressed and worried sick that the end was near – now I could see, clearly, that it really was a new beginning.
Miracle #1
November 2, 2009 by Daniel · Leave a Comment
I was awakened the next morning by an orderly with a wheelchair. “Time to go downstairs,” he mumbled. “Let me check your I.D.”
I gave him my arm. “It’s me,” I said, adding “can I brush my teeth first?”
“Sure,” he responded, “I’ll wait in the hall.” He turned to leave.
“You don’t have to go,” I said. “This’ll only take a minute.”
I finished at the sink and plopped into the chair. “Ready to go – let’s hit it.” He rolled me into the hall, downstairs, and locked the wheels. “I’ll be back for you shortly,” he said, walking away from me.
The x-ray went well; I was back in the room within 30 minutes. As I started my morning clean-up, the phone rang. It was John.
“Hey, there, how’re you doing this morning?”
“I didn’t sleep much, but I’m fine,” I said. “I have no idea what’s on the agenda today.”
“Well, before you get too busy, I’m coming in and and I want you to do me a favor,” he said, a little hesitation in his voice.
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to be bringing a bunch of your checks with me, and I want you to sign them.”
I laughed. “Sure, I’ll sign them, but there’s nothing in the account, so I wouldn’t plan a trip to the Bahamas.”
“It’s not for that, and I can’t explain it to you now. Just trust me. I’m not going to be there much today, but I’ll explain everything when I get back sometime this afternoon.”
“O.K.,” I said. “If I have to leave the room, I’ll give you a call and let you know.”
Sure enough, it hadn’t been a half hour before the cardiologist came bouncing in. “I’ve scheduled a heart catherization for 1:00 today, so we can find out what’s going on with you and how blocked your system is,” he explained. “You won’t be asleep; we’ll have you in ‘twilight’ for most of the procedure.”
“I know this is a stupid question, but how much will it hurt?” I asked, sounding like an 8 year old.
“You’ll probably be sore for a couple of days,” he replied. “I’ll go in through the groin area and move all the way up to your heart to check things out. You’ll be back in the room in no time.” He checked my breathing and walked to the door. “Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine,” he assured me.
Another nurse came in to prep me and ready me for the cath. “‘Ever had one of these before?” she asked, trying to establish some conversation.
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“Nope,” I said, “this is all new to me.” She quickly finished up, and it wasn’t long before I was on a gurney heading to cardiac surgery. I don’t recall any pain throughout the procedure, though the doctor had problems seeing all he needed. Apparently, the veins in my legs were also clogged, and he had found it necessary to try one leg, then the other, and finally my wrist to complete the cath. I had bandages all over me by the time I reached the room.
John was waiting on me. “Everything go o.k.?” he asked. He helped me put some sweats on and onto the bed. “I’ve got great news,” he said, and then he started to cry.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “I’m o.k.” I paused. “Don’t worry about me. They haven’t even started yet.
“No, it’s not that,” he stumbled. He paused. “As you know, the hospital has a department for Patient Services. I went to see them today to ask for help.” Another pause. “They’re going to look at your situation, and there’s a chance they may write-off the whole hospital bill.”
Then I started crying. “That’s wonderful!” I shouted.
He continued. “Well, even if they don’t write off the whole thing, it will at least give you a lower bill.” He walked to the window. “And another thing,” he continued. “I’ve been to each doctor’s office and negotiated their fees. Apparently with the economy the way it is, they’re seeing a lot of this.” He walked back to the bed and hugged me. “See there? We’ll find a way, somehow. Oh, by the way,” he remembered, “I called Belinda and asked her to come tomorrow, when I thought you’d be feeling better.”
“I can’t believe what you’ve told me,” I said. “I’m on Cloud 9 after that news.”
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