(The trip to the hospital—story 2)
Before we left the Church where I had fallen I knew I was in good hands. Minutes earlier, telling myself it was unlikely that I would die—though the awareness of it as possibility never left—I was beginning to settle into two other realities; This was going to be a pain filled hospital visit at best and I could be in for surgery at worse. The immediate concern was breathing.
In the last two weeks as I was driving I twice choked on ice, cutting off oxygen flow and moving toward a brief blackout. i was driving at maybe twenty miles an hour in heavy traffic and hit my brakes gently to make some distance between me and the car in front and glancing to my rear, warn the driver behind me. My eye sight was blurring and could not make out the road ahead but aimed my car off the road, now doing maybe 5 miles an hour. Just before blacking out I hit the brake hard, hoping I was on the shoulder and attempted breathing, getting a wheezing maybe 5-10% flow. My phone rang through on Bluetooth and I managed to hit the counsel, grateful I wasn’t alone. I could speak, only through partial breaths, I’m sure terrifying my son on the other end. “Hang on” I said. “Let me work through this.“ Within 39 seconds or so I was getting enough air to know I was going to be fine and because I felt shaken and weakened made the mistake of having Shaun ask Kristen who had come in from the other room if she thought it okay to open the door and walk? Laughing at me, she said “yes, probably a good idea”. I was a little frustrated with her laughter because I knew she hadn’t heard my earlier gasping and was probably thinking me a little over-dramatic. Me?🤷🏼♂️😊 But also knew that her laughter signaled the end of any danger. She is the funnest person to argue with!
The second happened exactly the same way, chewing ice and getting it caught in the wrong pipe. It was four days ago driving at 70 on the freeway west of Pendleton Oregon. Quickly pulling to the side and breaking, dizzying brain fog ending the clear vision of the moments before, I hit the steering wheel signally Joetta to take it so I could lay my head back for air and concentrate on breaking. It was over in seconds and I didn’t come close to blacking out. Just let my lady drive and I slept.
These two episodes were in my head as my two EMT’s were discussing where they would take me and the obvious need for a neck collar in case of spinal injury. They had been planning on Swedish main campus hospital (mine) when my tech suggested Harborview. As a pastor aware of the varying strengths of the hospital’s in Seattle I knew what that meant. Their specialty was trauma reception and surgical support teams.
I okayed the change, asking if they knew how good their food was? Comic relief, yes, but also quite serious. I had been put in the hospital through ER a week and half earlier because of complications from a surgery and discovered Swedish’s food as excellent—Salmon steak, fresh broccoli with perfect texture and red potatoes that blended a perfect meal. If my wife wasn’t such an incredible cook I might have wanted to prolong symptoms just for the food.
My tech now at my side, her voice expressing sympathy between a hundered questions came to the collar issue. Knowing that to fail to collar me would put her at protocol risk, but having asked about the restrictive effect on my breathing I asked if I could refuse. My throat, never very large, already felt tight and swallowing was becoming harder as they laid me down. She indicated, after reviewing risk assessment with me, I could. I did refuse and explained my fear, current difficulty breathing and asked if I could ride partly propped up.
What gave incredible assurance was simply the compassion and competence of these two techs, of whom there was obvious mutual respect but disagreement I think, as to the degree of liberty I was given. “Please know,” I reasoned, “I’ve already sat, laid back, walked to a stretcher. The pain at my shoulder along my spine feels like muscle pressure, nothing sharp. I will not take the collar. I know the risk but also know my own fears and body. Position my neck as you need and I’ll hold still.” Negotiation done, the rest of the trip was a combination of questions, processing vitals which I asked and were shared with me, compassion in voice, laughter and small talk.
Already I sensed that my prayer offered just before Kristen’s expertise was felt, moments earlier was heard. “God, save me. This could hurt. Please attend with skilled caregivers.“ The only thing that came back was in the intuited signature of God’s voice ive known since childhood. “I will and am”. Such an incredible gift is this relationship built upon years of knowing dialogue.
Blessings.. Terry :)
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