We all get to a certain age, health-wise, where we feel we’re catching all of the juggling pins, but that they just keep coming. You swear that you only started with five things to juggle, but now there are six, then eight, then ten. Geeeeeezzzze! Where did they all come from? Just when you think you’ve nipped one thing in the bud, another one crops up. You’ve learned in life that if you keep a semblance of a schedule, that it makes life simpler. But…there are always things of the unexpected nature cropping up.
For our Labor Day week-end, we had planned to drive downtown and spend a day taking some candid photos of life inside Loop 610; possibly snagging some photos of some of the interesting people on Westheimer. This was the plan for at least one day of the three day week-end.
Friday night, we were having our usual dinner with friends at The Texas Roadhouse. I had decided that I would have something other than my usual medium rare steak with salad and baked sweet potato. The beef tips looked wonderful. All was good while waiting. My mouth all set for this, and I started tearing through the salad and rolls. These are always very good.
As we ate our salads, we were royally entertained by the other couples’ two year old granddaughter, Izzy. She had been staring at the funny looking man that had all the ear markings of Teddy Bear; particularly around his fur covered face. Izzy was intrigued with The Royster’s face fur. He allowed her to touch it, and that sent her in to a frenzy of giggles, much to everyone else’s’ delight. After a while, she thought it was okay to give the big Teddy Bear a kiss, which sent her in to hysterical laughter. What better entertainment at dinner time than a happy, funny baby.
The main course arrived. The waitress cleared away empty plates, and placed food in front of us. Those beef tips were making me drool. As she placed the food in front of me, I saw that the beef tips were cooked to perfect medium rare, and the rice was brown with beautiful little sautéed mushrooms. I took a big sip of water to clear my palate, stabbed one of the sautéed mushrooms and put it in my drooling, waiting mouth. The flavor was wonderful. Next, I tried the brown rice. I was deliberately teasing my mouth; making it wait for the beef tips. Finally, I cut off a bite of the beef tips and delicately placed it in my mouth to savor. Excellent, just as I thought it would be! BUT WAIT!!!!! As I chewed and swallowed, a familiar uncomfortable feeling crept in.
Six years ago, I had some radiation that created scar tissue in my swallower that had made it impossible to swallow. I had that treated (dilated) about seven times before the dang thing would work properly. Before it was fixed, though, I would have episodes of food sticking; not moving up or down. Generally, after an hour or so, the food would eventually move on. Mind you, it always happened at a really nice restaurant, and we always had to get a to-go box so I could at least enjoy the meal later.
The familiar feeling persisted, and I finally had to excuse myself to the ladies room. I wasn’t choking, but wanted to make sure I was in a convenient spot in case the beef tip finally decided to come flying out my mouth. I waited and nothing happened, so I returned to our dinner table, and announced that I’d have to have a “doggie box” to take my dinner home in. I darn sure was not going to leave my dinner on the table. The Styrofoam box arrived along with the check. We divided-up and left. I was getting more and more uncomfortable.
We stood outside in the parking lot chatting with our friends. Finally, I motioned to The Royster that we really needed to head home. I just knew that the offending beef tip would move along if I had a nice hot shower and relaxed a little, and I did just that as soon as we got home. Sadly, the clog remained. I could not even slip a sip of tea past it. Finally, I drifted off to sleep around 10:30, only to wake every hour on the hour until I finally got up around 2:30. The swallower would not relax to let the food pass. A panicky feeling replaced hope. I let The Royster sleep, because I knew that he would have to be in charge a little later. I had already made up my mind that we would be heading to an emergency room at 5:30.
Dressed and ready to go with medical info in hand we headed out the door, arriving at St. Luke’s at 6:00. The Royster let me out at the E.R. door and went to park the car. The waiting room was surprisingly quiet. We did have to wait but were called in just as the sun was about to come up, and were escorted to a small room, where I was hooked up to an I.V. of something that was supposed to relax the esophagus.
The Royster patted me in sympathy and entertained me by drawing a face on a latex glove and blowing it up. The man is talented! There just wasn’t anything to read while we waited. After about an hour, the I.V. was empty, and its contents had failed miserably. The clog had not budged. So, I was taken up to be pleasantly sedated while the doctor went diving for the beef tip. Seems the old swallower had started shrinking up again. Beef tip removed, I was dilated and awakened 40 minutes later. After all was said and done, I was cleared to go home and eat soft foods (ice cream) for the rest of the day. I was handed a page of nine progressive photos of what the doctor was doing while I enjoyed my drug induced nap. She also gave me another sheet with instructions on how to take care of myself. She then said I would need a follow-up visit in a week.
Stopping only at the pharmacy for prescriptions, we made it home around noon. The Royster poured us a cranberry pomegranate juice, and I retired to the bedroom to sleep off the rest of the anesthetic.
All is well today (a day later), and I thoroughly enjoyed the beef tips for lunch. All is back to normal, and as usual….waiting for another danged ol’ pin to be thrown into my juggling act. Bring it! Whatever comes along, we’ll just handle it! So, once again, if it’s not one thing, then it’s another. Life just happens that way and you deal with it and move on.
