My Thanksgiving this year is for four months: August, September, October,
and November. They were months I came close to not seeing, because on August
3rd, I nearly bled to death.
My great grandfather died of colon cancer; my grand-father had cancerous
parts of his colon removed--twice. There's been colon cancer through-out my
family for years. All my siblings have been checked for it. I was the
hold-out...but finally, I decided I was ten years overdue for it might as well
give in and have a colonoscopy...just to see.
The doctor was re-assuring. After all, I was the kind of patient she liked.
Healthy. No problems. no meds. No known allergies. Just vitamins occasionally.
She said I'd have no trouble.
And I didn't. She found three large polyps that were not cancerous yet and
removed them. On Wednesday, after the anesthesia wore off, she told me to
resume all normal activity. So I did. I ate normally and walked my normal
two miles a day, I traveled to Amarillo to visit my Dad who was in the hospital
and I felt perfectly energetic, except for a respiratory infection and a mild back pain.
Sunday, I went to church but didn't stay. My throat was sore; I couldn't
sing and my sinuses were stuffy. After taking some Advil and cold medicine, I
slept all the rest of the morning and afternoon.
That evening was the first day of school. We had a teacher's
retreat/in-service time planned down at Quartz Mountain Resort about an hour
from our house. Since Turtle had services planned for that evening, I drove
myself down. It was a gorgeous day.
After supper that evening we all sat out on the porch by the lake and
visited. There were deer going down to the water to drink, and the breeze
was just cool enough to make sitting outside perfect. We played a game,
putting slips of famous names in a bowl and giving clues to guess them. It went
on and on. Meanwhile, my intestines were hurting a little. I tolerated it
for a while, then asked if we could take a break so I could run up to my hotel
room.
There was a little wooden path that ran from the deck to the stairs. It
looked mysterious and I felt euphoric. I remember running along the path, just
because I liked the sound of my footsteps on the hollow wood. Then I ran up the
stairs to my room and into the bathroom.
My first thought was: "On no!" Now I have a stomach virus on top
of this cold, " but when I looked, I noticed a lot of blood in the stool.
"Hm," I thought, "Must be the aftermath of that polyp
removal." and I returned to the group on the deck and played another round
of the game. However, I wasn't entirely at ease about the situation, so when
another teacher arrived, one who is an R.N., I drew her aside and asked it that
was normal for five days post-polypectomy. She said, "No. Not at
all." So I ran back upstairs to call my husband and have him look for the
paper with the doctor's instructions on what to do in case of excessive
bleeding.
When I entered the room, I knew that I had to go back to the bathroom before
I called. This time it was like turning on a faucet. And it was all
blood. Lots of dark red blood. I called Turtle. He agreed that I shouldn't try
to drive home, and found the emergency number for me. I gave three tries, but
couldn't get through to the hospital, and I had to make the last call from the bathroom.
Meanwhile, Turtle had managed to get through to the hospital and talk to the
ER nurse. She recommended that I come in, so he suggested I get another teacher
to take me to an emergency room about thirty minutes away.
I walked down the hall and out onto the stair landing. Suddenly I felt
dizzy, and I knew I shouldn't try to walk down those stairs. The deck seemed
far away in the moonlight. I didn't think they would hear me if I yelled. Then a face tipped upward, reflected in the lamplight, and I beckoned with my arm. Someone stood
up. At that point I sat down on the floor and began to be a little
worried. I have donated blood before--a pint is what they always
take, and I had never felt dizzy from it, nor come close to having to sit
down. Nor felt the least bit nauseated like I did now. And my heart had
never pounded nor my breath turn into little pants.
When my colleague arrived, she said: "Did you forget your room
key?" "No. I need someone to drive me to the emergency room. I'm
bleeding" She ran back down stairs and I went to the room again...back to
the bathroom....then to sit on the bed...and once again....back to the
bathroom. .It was bleeding really fast now, and I knew that if the blood kept
accumulating at that rate I would bleed out before an ambulance could get out
to this isolated little resort. Back to the bathroom…
Two lady teachers rushed into the room in time to see me collapse onto the
floor.
I don't remember feeling terrified, but I do remember thinking something was
out of control. It was like I was running and running, chasing after something
that was just beyond the grasp of my arms. That something was my life.
Everything was fuzzy around the edges and I thought/prayed in weak little
bursts which matched the panting of my lungs: "Lord, this is certainly an
undignified way to die, but if this is what You want, I'm ready to do it...only
if it will bring someone closer to you and not drive someone away...but all the
same, I'd like to be here for my grandchildren, and if that's not to be, I'll
see you in a minute.
The fuzziness was still there and I remember saying aloud: "I
can't feel my arms. I can't feel my lips. Everything was going numb. At
that moment, I felt the hands of the two teachers on my lower back. They were
praying aloud. ...nothing too theologically hesitant either, just:
"Lord, right now. Stop this bleeding."
People were on the phones. Talking to a paramedic. Talking to my husband. I
lay on the cold floor and poured sweat. Then into the nausea I heard somebody's
voice asking if I could turn over on my back. It surprised me greatly
that I answered, yes, and, finding that possible, I tried to turn over and made
it. The effort made me breathe faster though, and now I was suddenly
cold...shaking cold. They brought a blanket, and lifted my feet.
Suddenly, the nausea left. I was clear...no fuzziness. No fear either. The
bleeding had stopped for the time being, and the ambulance was on its
way. We sat there visiting quietly. It didn't seem like very long but they told me later that it had taken forty five minutes to get
there.
There were lots of adventures after that...but I don't want to go on and on
forever. To sum it up: two emergency rooms, two ambulances, two pints of blood,
and a diagnosis of two sliced arteries later, I was clipped with little clamps,
pumped full of IV fluids and sent home in peace. After a few days of
rest, I was able to make the first day of school!
So this Thanksgiving is for August, September, October, and every day of November that I have lived...and walked....and enjoyed.
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