For most of the population, it was just another day. For me, it was Sabbath. The day before, my doctor had told me his clinic partner would be doing rounds. I said the man had never liked me. I felt it was true. I was his nemesis when I was still working—the one who made his life miserable because of medical necessity and diagnosis codes.
That morning, he came in, made decided eye contact and shook my hand. I felt a truce had been established. We’d be okay. He went over the chart with me and said my sodium was low. (!) That was a new development. He went on. “I know you like to do things as naturally as possible.” Yeah, right. Here I was, IV antibiotics flooding my system, Solumedrol making my blood sugar spike, insulin to bring it down, blood thinners—the list could go on and on. I semi-snorted. “Would you drink tomato juice?” WOULD I? It would be one thing on the tray that would have some taste. Yes! Bring it on! “I’ll have them send it to you to bring your level up.” Could I give you a hug? (Not aloud.) (Probably not allowed, either.)
He explained that I was inpatient at that juncture (I thought I’d been in swingbed for a day or two) because it had something to do with days—but I’d understand that better than he did. Did I? I had no intention of using my swingbed days for another visit but, who knows? As far as my benefits are concerned, days 1-7 have no co-pay, days 8-20 are $40 per day. After that, through day 100, it’s $100 per day. Spare me having to get to that point! The kicker was, I could have gone to swingbed directly from the doctor’s office and not owed but $40 for the eight days. Now it would be $650. That’s okay. I’m made of money.
After that, he wished me well, turned and left.
My tray came and the promised tomato juice was on it. I tried to open the can. It took more than one attempt but I was finally able to do it. It gave me a newfound respect for people who are always weak. What a revelation that was! I’d get cans of Sprite but I was putting them away and had only had a couple earlier in my stay.
The tomato juice was so refreshing! I’d already had the little carton of orange juice out of an obligation to get my vitamin C. Other than that, it was pretty sour and unsatisfying. The tomato juice, though, was delicious! I was unconsciously thankful for my low sodium.
The balance of the meal came from the box of goodies my friend had brought plus a banana from my stash. Now and then, my tray would have a banana. When it did, I’d add it to the pile and eat the ripest one first.
When it was time for church, I looked up a sermon by Jose Rojas. I didn’t want to watch the Breakthrough series because I’d save them for when they were being used at church. The one about Gideon appealed so I started it. Hearing “In the Garden” recited by the man brought tears to my eyes. That’s how it begins so watch that much even if you don’t watch the rest.
It took watching off and on all day to get the whole of the sermon in. My level of concentration was ‘way down (still is, though not as bad).
At lunchtime, my friend called from the fellowship meal to see if I wanted anything. YES!! She said she would fix me a plate and have the Computer Owner bring it. Sure enough, she walked in with yet another friend. They visited briefly and had prayer, then left me to enjoy the repast.
I bit into what I thought was a burger but it was a very sweet raw cookie. Tasty but a bit of a surprise. There was pasta with veggies, plus three of four other things I can’t remember—none of it was tasteless! I ate half and asked one of the staff to put the rest in the fridge so I could have it the next day.
I managed to work on the lessons a bit. I feel that’s a ministry and it isn’t wrong to do good on the Sabbath. Even though it was slow going, I finished two, more or less.
When I wasn’t actively doing something on the computer, I had this post pulled up with the picture of my granddaughter and young Twinkle smiling at me. My girls.
I’d given my phone number out to the family but most of them didn’t call. I’d told them to go ahead if they wanted to listen to me cough. My voice had gotten very squeaky from the O2 and I was hard to understand. Instead, we kept in touch via email. Such a nice alternative.
The hours passed as they had been on any other day with meds administered by mouth and IV. Finger sticks. Injections. Cough medicine. That much was routine but I was in my own little blessed part of the week until the sun went down and it was over.