Observations & Reflections:
14 Days in the Hospital at the age of 60 or How I Survived the Unexpected
My purpose in writing this essay is to describe the experiences & lessons from my extended stay in the hospital in September of 2018 for personal reflection as well as to share these observations with family and close friends who may benefit from my experience.
On Thursday, August 3oth, I enjoyed a nice lunch with my wife before planning to join my friend Chuck for a plane flight over to the Mayo Clinic. Around 3pm, as I was preparing to depart for the airport, I was overcome with significant nausea and vomited violently. Strange as it may sound, I was searching my memory for the last time I had gotten sick while wretching....and concluded that it had been well more than a decade. I just don’t get sick: great genes, a positive attitude, and the many years in schools that boosted my immune system. My gut hurt, I was sweating profusely, and there was ultimately nothing left in my stomach. I surmised that I had contracted a flu bug.
Given my plan to join Chuck on a flight over to the Mayo clinic, I quickly concluded that I could not join him because I couldn’t risk getting him sick - his immune system was reduced because of the chemo program he was on. I texted him, explained the situation, and assumed that he would call when he landed, disappointed at my situation but understanding our plight. Within the hour, he landed at Sugarloaf, called, and we discussed this unexpected development. He totally understood, departed for Mayo without me while I drifted off to sleep for the remainder of the afternoon and evening, expecting to feel better the next morning as my 24 hour bug wore off.
I woke up around 5am on Friday, August 31st and rushed to the bathroom with the dry heaves. There was nothing left in my stomach - I hadn’t eaten anything since noon on Thursday and had only consumed a small amount of liquid so as not to become dehydrated - so I figured it was just the logical result of a 24 hour flu virus. Later that morning, my wife and I decided it was time to go see my local doctor, a former student of mine from the class 0f 1988. We drove 45 minutes to his office where I had significant difficulty finding a comfortable position. After a relatively brief examination, Dr. Carroll told me that I needed to go to the emergency room as it appeared that a flu bug was NOT the source of the problem. He was concerned about a possible intestinal problem especially because my entire abdomen was distended. While I hadn’t “noticed” it while sleeping after vomiting, it became increasingly obvious that I was “lugging” around a bowling ball in my belly. Unpleasant & uncomfortable. Probably more than a flu bug….
We arrived at Munson Hospital in Traverse City the afternoon of Friday, August 31st. Perfect timing - the front end of the Labor Day weekend. Surely the emergency room would be empty - NOT. I was unable to sit in the waiting room, choosing to kneel with my chest on a chair. Apparently the visual was sufficiently disturbing that I was moved into an examination room within minutes. The docs and nurses performed a series of tests on me that afternoon and evening. After reviewing a CT scan, a surgeon & PA visited me and told me that they had concluded that there was some type of small bowel obstruction, cause unknown. No rush, no immediate need for surgery, but definitely a need to be admitted into the hospital for further observation.
Next morning, the surgeon came into my room and asked if I was a Rice guy. I thought it was an odd question in Traverse City, but I knew it meant one of two things. Either it was a fellow Warrior who was caring for me, or it was a CC grad. When Dr. Lafond identified himself as a Shamrock, we both laughed and shook hands with the pride of Catholic league rivalry that has distinguished our two institutions. I instantly knew I was in good hands - a fellow Catholic leaguer who had enjoyed a similar educational and spiritual experience.
Managing Expectations
You’ll be better by…..you’ll be out of here in no time…..maybe, maybe not. Every patient is different, every set of variables a factor in the process & timeline of healing. If your expectations get ahead of reality, there’s a distinct possibility that you could become frustrated by estimations and guesswork that ultimately don’t really matter in terms of the healing process. Your body will heal, based upon your particular set of circumstances, when it is ready. Not sooner. Opinions are nice, informed opinions are better, but they are simply projections, not guarantees. If your happiness or satisfaction depends on fulfilling the expectation that schedules and time lines are to be followed, get ready for a life-changing experience. If you have enjoyed living a life that relies heavily on scheduled events, if you rarely deviate from a plan, if you dislike the “chaos” associated with “going with the flow”, an extended hospital stay is going to be a major challenge for you.
The bottom line is that your primary objective is to heal, not meet a particular schedule. By their very nature, expectations are guesses (educated or not). The healing process is a set of milestones that either do or do not happen. Are you more concerned with a schedule or healing? The challenge is to manage the inevitable desire for a speedy recovery and any expectations about how long it will take without losing sight of the prize. It’s hard to heal if you are negative or pessimistic, but at the same time, blending together a positive mental attitude with a realistic perspective on expectations, timing, etc. will cause the least mental anguish and promote recovery.
Wanting to or expecting to achieve some milestone is great, but what happens when you don’t? Is it proof of some disaster? Is it time to worry? You can overanalyze the words of the medical professionals responsible for your care, or you can calmly try to match hopes with reality while remaining optimistic and positive. It’s nice to want to get better soon, but there’s only so much one can do. Making your body do “something” is not, in my experience, realistic. Your responsibility as a patient is to cooperate with the medical professionals, follow their advice, and allow the healing process to occur physically, emotionally, intellectually, spiritually at the pace that it is occuring. Any attempts to “hurry” the process by making demands on yourself or your caregivers will, in my experience, serve no purpose except to frustrate you and delay the healing process.
Family
Kathy and I have been married for 35 years. Cannot imagine life without her. Cannot imagine being hospitalized for 14 days without her supporting me every day, for more than 12 hours in most cases, advocating on my behalf and helping me physically, emotionally and spiritually. I am so blessed. Her love was constant, her commitment to my recovery complete. Her focus was on my recovery. I wondered if I could ever do the same for her, not in the sense of was I willing to do so, but could I comparatively “measure up” to what she had done for me? My answer was that with God’s grace, I can do anything. She admitted that she had wondered the same herself, particularly after watching her own mother care for her father for so many years. If there was doubt before, there was no doubt during….
My mother visited multiple times - the nurse was determined to ensure that her baby was properly cared for. So happy to have her visit me. The mother-son relationship is powerful at 6 and 60.
My oldest son arrived on the evening of Day #6, as planned, for a family wedding. I had awaited his arrival anxiously for several days as it became apparent that my stay would be extended. Although my wife and my mother had been with me frequently the first few days, I found myself yearning to be surrounded as well by both of my sons, hopeful that their presence would generate a needed boost of adrenaline to aid the healing process.
I don’t want to be overly dramatic about this next point because it reflects, as I see it, a positive far more than a negative. In recent years, particularly after Grandpa Leo & Kathy’s father passed away several years ago, I had prayed about my desire to be surrounded by family when my time on earth was to end. In this case, it NEVER crossed my mind that I was in a life or death situation, but it did cross my mind how much I wanted to be surrounded by family. I have said publicly that the three greatest things that have happened in my life are that I was born into a loving, Christian family, I married Kathy and we were blessed with two wonderful sons. I was very conscious of the fact that my healing would be aided by the presence of my entire family, and I desperately wanted John & Patrick to be with Kathy and I in the hospital room.
When John arrived on Thursday and Pat on Saturday, it is not an overstatement to say that my heart leapt when they entered the room and grasped my hand. I was strengthened immediately by holding their hands and being in their presence. My emotions were pretty raw at that point having been in the hospital for 6+ days. If memory serves, I teared up at both….I was just so happy to have them with me.
At the same time, I was conscious of the fact that my sons had never seen me, to my knowledge, weak and infirm. It brought back some difficult images of my own father’s health challenges and my associated fears/anxiety/worry as a teenager. For years, I have privately resolved that I never wanted any member of my family to worry about me - that I was strong enough to get through anything. I didn’t want my sons to feel as I did in my father’s last year of life, and yet now it was impossible for them not to worry even though my condition was never remotely close to life-threatening.
My sons managed to control their emotions while focusing on me. I was so grateful to have them by my side, holding my hand. Perhaps they will privately admit that they were scared or even more worried once they saw me - I don’t know. What I do know is that I was extraordinarily grateful for their presence and I am convinced that achieving physical health requires positive energy in the form of emotional and spiritual grace. My family provided me with the emotional and spiritual grace to recover by their presence, their love, their kindness, their prayer on my behalf.
Loneliness
Do you live with one or more people at your home? Does your average day involve regular interaction with loved ones? Get ready - it is unlikely that the average family member or friend can devote more than 12 hours per day to be at your side during an extended hospital stay. That means that 50% of your day you will probably be in your room without family/friends. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn’t be daunting as you’d probably be asleep for more than 60% of that 12 hours….except that in the hospital, sleeping more than 2 hours at a time is uncommon.
If you can adjust and are comfortable with a temporary change in your daily interactions with family and friends, good. If you struggle to adjust or are uncomfortable, you’ll probably experience some loneliness while in the hospital. No one wants to be alone. If you can manage your discomfort, odds are the impact will be limited. If you cannot manage this discomfort, loneliness can lead to fear, to negative expectations, to pessimism, to thoughts that inevitably will interfere with the healing process.
If you want to wallow in self-pity, now’s an appropriate time...except it won’t do you any good. Healing and a negative disposition are not compatible.
There’s no shortage of human contact during a hospital stay. Medical professionals are regularly in your room, whether you want them there or not. Human contact is, however, NOT the same as human connection. If you are fortunate, your family and friends will spend significant amounts of time at your side, supporting the healing process by showing their love and care for you. You will derive positive energy from their presence.
If you are very fortunate, the medical professionals, particularly the nursing staff, will connect with you on a very human level and treat you as if you are one of their own. It’s rarely said in a spoken word, but it is demonstrated in hundreds of different ways throughout the day by these wonderful caregivers. It makes a big difference when the professionals responsible for your care make you feel as if you are important.
On the first night after my surgery, I remember waking up at 3am and the words “You are not alone and you will NEVER be alone” came to my mind clearly and distinctly. A fear of loneliness must have been on my mind, but I can say that this moment steeled my spirit going forward. Several days later, I recalled the “footsteps in the sand” prayer. I meditated on the image of being carried by my Savior when I couldn’t walk on my own. This image rang true, particularly while I was in the hospital and so totally dependent on the care that I was receiving. My meditation on this image gave me emotional and spiritual strength that I believe was God’s grace.
Procedures
I was catheterized (twice), I took four suppositories (administered by nurses), I had my blood drawn or blood sugar tested throughout the day, I had IV’s installed, a PIC line installed (a sterile hospital room procedure), the list probably goes on. None is particularly painful, none is without pain. Most involve some degree of discomfort either physical or mental. If given the choice, I would probably have declined. But I wanted to get better, I wanted to be a good patient, I didn’t want to do anything counter productive to my healing. At the same time, there is a certain loss of dignity as a patient - I say this with NO criticism of the nurses who were great. I say this as a 60 year old man who has maintained sovereign control of his person for the vast majority of his 60 years. Allowing a nurse to catheterize you in order to get a good urine sample from your bladder was as much an emotional experience as it was a physical event.
I wouldn’t want to do any of these things again, nor did I enjoy any of them when they occured. I can say, however, that I mentally accepted the necessity of these procedures (albeit with some delay occasionally) and trusted the nurses to do what they had to do. They were great. I was, literally, in good hands. I remain grateful for their extraordinary care and kindness, without which these procedures would have been miserable.
Priorities
For the vast majority of my adult life, I have started each day conscious of what my priorities are for the day, the week, the month, for a lifetime. This mental “checklist” has guided my daily activities for as long as I can remember. It reflects, for the most part, the adult reality of having free will, of being sovereign, in control of my life. It is one of the great gifts of American democracy. I am beholden to my Creator, my wife, my family.
The shock of emergency hospitalization, the sudden surgery, the undefined period of “recovery” pretty much swept aside any sense of immediate priorities. Does the long term change? Not in my case - there was nothing life or death. How about the short term? I’ve got to travel here and call this person and do this….and suddenly none of that matters.
Consistent with the unexpected reality of becoming flexible, living according to one’s priorities (in the short term) are rendered meaningless. One’s priorities become straightforward - get better, get some sleep, try to make progress, cooperate with the docs & nurses, get something to eat or drink. The aspirational is traded, for the most part, for the very practical. Don’t worry about ten days from now, focus on the next hour - I need to walk, I need to sit up, I need to get past the next procedure.
Roommates
Munson is a semi-private hospital. I had four different roommates in my 14 days in the hospital. The first was deaf so the room was really loud. The third was only there for several hours. The fourth was in a good deal of pain, was reasonably quiet and it was my last day or two.
My second roommate said something that really caught my attention. He was hospitalized for 7 or 8 days. He suffered mightily, the victim of a home invasion in which he was struck with baseball bats. He slept the vast majority of the time taking medication to help him with concussions and various other difficulties associated with a beating. On the last day, just before he was discharged from the hospital, I walked past his bed and wished him good luck. He shook my hand and said to me “You have a nice family”. He had been in the room when my wife was there daily, my mother was there frequently, and when my two sons were there….I didn’t expect such a comment, but upon reflection, it made perfect sense. I have said for years - I am blessed. My roommate was a witness and offered a simple statement that was honest and fair - I do have a wonderful family.
Eucharistic Ministers
I recall having a eucharistic minister visit my room probably every other day during my 14 day hospital stay. I was unable to receive communion, but I was grateful to pray with these ministers who were lay volunteers. I thought often of the 10 lepers in the biblical story who are healed but only one returns to say thanks. I am hopeful that I said thank you to each of these ministers and greatly appreciated their willingness to stop and pray with me during my hospitalization. It was extremely beneficial emotionally and spiritually.
