BIRTHDAY DINNER INTERRUPTUS

There is a new Mediterranean Grill restaurant down the road, and I chose that for my birthday dinner on Monday night.  The Royster and I drove there and took a seat.  It appeared we were the only ones there besides the staff, and they were glad to see us.  We ordered our salads and were brought some wonderful bread along with our salads.   So far, so good.

Finally our main courses were brought out.  I had ordered lamb kabobs.  It was cooked to perfection.   Forgive me if this is sounding all too familiar.  I tasted the rice with it, and it proved to be very good.  Then I selected a piece of roasted lamb from the kabob; cut off a bite size piece and savored the taste as I chewed.  Excellent!  As I swallowed, I noticed a familiar feeling as the morsel moved down to a stop.  Okay, M’liss … relax.  It’ll move if you just relax.  Sip some water. 

Oh! *#%$@!!!  It’s happened again!  The Royster guessed right away what had happened, and was watching me intently, as if watching for the winning lottery numbers roll out. 

       

Food had lodged in my esophagus and it was not going to move.  The Royster asked me if he should take me to the hospital E.R., and I told him that we should go home and give it a chance to move on its own.   Besides, we needed to let the dog out, and if need be, find someone to check in on Hank if we had to be gone.  We asked for doggie boxes and took both our full meals home.  What a bummer!   On the way home, he watched me out of the corner of his eye for something good to happen.  Nothing!  We agreed that this always seems to happen only when we eat out; and usually it’s an expensive restaurant.  When we arrived home, I promptly got into the shower to try to relax….even knowing that scar tissue isn’t going to relax, once it’s constricted.  After about an hour, I decided that we should go to the E.R.   So we got in the car and drove the 15 minutes to St. Luke’s in The Woodlands.

So, once again, I found myself in the hospital E.R. waiting room, with a chunk of food stuck in my gullet.  The last time was Labor Day week-end.  I’ll call that The Beef-Tip Incident.  And, again, the Royster dropped me of at the E.R. entrance to get a jump on signing in while he parked the car.  I was at the desk in no time, and filled out the short form.  The woman asked me what was wrong, and I told her I had food stuck in a stricture in my esophagus.

 

She said:  “Oh my gosh!  Are you in pain?   Discomfort?”

My eyes rolled as I said:  “I’m in considerable pain and discomfort!”

She said:  “Alright then, have a seat, and doctor will be right with you.”

I asked:  “Any idea of how long I’ll have to wait?”

She said:  “Oh, it shouldn’t be long at all."

As I turned around, I saw that there were about 40 other people ahead of me.  My heart sank with the realization that most of those people were there with cold symptoms.  Runny nosed kids running around and maybe a couple people with serious hangnails.  They were there because they didn’t want to go see a regular doctor they’d have to pay.  They were there because emergency room care is free to people with no insurance.  By law, they cannot be turned down.  The only seats left were next to the automatic door, which opened every time someone walked by.  It was cold.   I sat and watched for an eternity, as one after another snotty nose and hangnail was called in to see doctor.

This brought to mind a song by Stevie Ray Vaughn – HANGNAILS AND BOOGERS.

  

We had arrived at the E.R. around 9 p.m.  Around 10 p.m. I went to the desk and asked when I might be called to see a doctor.  I was told there were only a few ahead of me.  Again, told the nurse at the desk that I was in a great deal of pain and discomfort.  He asked again what was wrong; and again I told him.  He looked surprised.  “It shouldn’t be long now.”  I returned to my seat.  The Royster and I were both squirming and very tired.  I made at least two more trips to the restroom, and each time, I passed by the desk, I asked again, “How long?”   The third trip around 12:30 a.m.   I was told there was one more ahead of me.  I thought there was truly some hope.  Another eternity slipped by.

The nurse checking a list and calling patients called three more…by that time it was 1:45 a.m.  I’d had enough!  I stood up and glared straight at the male nurse that had told me there had been only one ahead of me.  My glare said that I was coming over the desk to do some damage to him.  He quickly took side-bar with Nurse Nancy who had been calling all the snotty noses and hangnails to see the doctor.  He casually gestured in my direction and acted very nervous.  Nurse Nancy side-glanced in my direction…..and I gave her a full glare.  She nervously went back to her rolling podium and looked at her list…..”Oh, yes!  Here she is!” she added with a nervous “Ha-ha”.  She nodded to me and called my name.  The Royster and I jumped up as if someone would hop in front of us.

Nurse Nancy escorted me in to see doctor.   By this time, poor Royster was sleep-walking.  Doctor asked me what the problem was, as if I hadn’t told anyone.  When I told him that I had a chunk of meat stuck in the stricture in my esophagus, he acted surprised, again as if ... and then asked me if I was in any pain or discomfort!  I was ready to explode, and I said:

“YES!  I’m in a GREAT DEAL of pain and discomfort, not to mention that I cannot swallow my own saliva, and have been spitting in this plastic barf bag since 9 p.m.”   He actually had the nerve to ask why I didn’t tell anyone when I came in.  I think he sensed that I was going to take someone’s head off, so he had someone come in with a wheelchair to whisk me off to x-ray at 2:30, and after that, around 3:00 to the E.R. Examination cubicle.

 

They didn't have a G.I. person there, but they'd try to get the "on call" G.I. person.  In the mean time, I was to sleep on a gurney in the E.R.  There were no rooms available in the hospital.   I sent the Royster home to get some sleep and let Hank out.  Arriving home at 3:30 a.m., he didn’t get much sleep before he was back by my side before 7 a.m.

We were told that the on call G.I. doctor was on the way.  We hurried up to wait longer….until 11 a.m. the next morning, when I was whisked off to surgery, prepped and lectured by a doctor I was sure didn’t like his job, or at least didn’t want to be there.  Without knowing anything about my history, nor having seen the problem, he fussed at me and accused me of taking too big a bite and not chewing.  I guessed that I’d interrupted a golf game or sex, or something equally as important, and he was really mad at having been called to surgery.

 

He said he’d take out the blockage, but was not going to dilate me.  I implored him to please dilate me, because the stricture had shrunk once again.  Surgery performed and the offending piece of lamb kabob extracted, and gullet dilated (9th time).  I guess he finally realized the situation.  He admonished me again for getting food stuck.  How stupid of me!  Further, he had the nerve to hand me his card, and ordered me to report to him in one week for a follow-up.  I’ve made an appointment with another doctor for the follow up.  I’ll be writing a complaint on him to the hospital.  I was released from Recovery at 12:42 p.m.

After picking up prescriptions at the pharmacy, we were home by 1:30 p.m. and we slept all the rest of the day.  We woke to have something to eat.  I had a little broth, took some Aleve for pain (my head, throat and chest ached terribly from straining), and slept until about 5 a.m. the next morning.   I'm on a soft diet for the next week....No problem there. 

I do feel much better today; ran some errands, and will finally dismantle the Christmas tree. A nap will be in order. I do have pictures of the procedure and the offending piece of lamb kabob, but I don't think I'll put it on display.  We did bring home doggy boxes from the Mediterranean Grill, and I will make soup with the kabob meat....for Roy....I think I’ll just just have some of the broth … thanks very much.  And the lamb soup was pronounced good, and enjoyed by two very hungry people.