Part 151 Passing the test


I struggle to tolerate the wires inside me and try to stifle the urges to vomit as day breaks. The news is filled with the desperation of Khadafy and his crumbling regime, mixed with reports of earthquakes in Virginia. Dr. Bl- doesn’t make her usual and therefore expected early morning round to see me, so I can’t beg her to pull my wires off. I am very tired and impatient to leave. My mucous is getting worse it seems. In addition, the new nurse Sandy is taking some getting used to. She is tall and stocky, towering over me, and seems to have difficulty hearing me. I raise my voice once and she abruptly says, “don’t talk to me that way”. I apologize, and after I adapt to her rhythms, we get along okay. At night, an attractive Oriental nurse comes in to oversee me as I struggle to fall asleep. When I do, my evening is filled with sexual fantasies, so I must be feeling better.

At six a.m., Jim whisks me out out of the sleep that finally came, with news that they will be conducting a series of upper GI studies ASAP. I mentally fake tossing a football to him and ask if it is real ASAP time or hospital ASAP. My nurse this morning is now a sophisticated African American lady who spends as much time tidying my room as housekeeping does. What a pleasant surprise.

Dr. Bl- comes in, clips the bridal on my nose, and once again, some blessed relief from its constraints after I choke briefly as the wire falls inside me. Then its time for the swallow study again. This time, after so many dismal trials and failures, I pass. Dr. B-, Jim, and the radiologist all say no leaks. “Perfect” is the word I have waited so long to hear. “Discharged” follows, and sounds just as sweet.

My lunch consists of cream of wheat, lemon yoghurt, lemonade, orange juice (the sweet stuff that not long ago Bl- wouldn’t let me near) and chocolate ice cream. Under the circumstances, it is wonderful.

By mid afternoon, our car is heading for home.