RESURRECTED, ALMOST

A Crazy True Personal Story

RESURRECTED, ALMOST

Warning: if you’re a bit queasy with the specter of blood and guts, I won’t be offended if you politely and discreetly exit this story.

This particular sunny Tucson day was much like any other. As was typical, I was thinking deeply esoteric existential thoughts. Pondering the Big Bang Theory. Exploring explosive ideas. Being a mighty multi-tasker, I was also focused and fascinated watching a pair of squirrels play tag with each other. Literally jumping over each other. Juxtaposing the cosmos with the squirrel world was quite the incredible balancing act. But most of all, even though it was only noon, in my highest echelon level of thinking, I was wondering what we might be having for dinner. But soon I found out, dinner was not to be had this day.

In the midst of all my high-level world-changing thoughts and because I’m so highly evolved, I noticed that something was trying to distract me from these deep thoughts. A bit of pain in my gut area. I had absolutely no idea what prompted it. I hadn’t over-indulged with Pepperoni Pizza or Haagen Daz Ice Cream. My wonderful wife Julie hadn’t kung-fu-kicked me in the stomach like she often does. I wasn’t really all that constipated. A bit of a mystery. Being the mighty, masculine man that I imagined myself to be, I thought that the best way to deal with it was to ignore it. You know, ignore something long enough and surely it will go away. That’s the manly thing to do, right?

However, being the wise, wonderful woman that my wife Julie is, her profound advice was to go to Urgent Care. Now! In other words, don’t be stupid Jim. Although I considered this a waste of time, after over fifty years of marriage, I learned that listening to my wife oftentimes makes sense. And while arguing might be fun, it’s not usually all that helpful. So, I acquiesced and off to Urgent Care we went. Ready for another of life’s great adventures. I was getting little bored anyway, so this was great. What a wonderful way to spend the day.

We selected an Urgent Care that had mostly positive reviews. Per Julie’s advice, always read the reviews, especially the negative ones. So here I was, sitting with a nurse, thinking of the wide array of possible of reviews I might give them. At the same time, my gut pain was increasing. They did the usual checking of vitals and analyzing of my stomachache issues. They were quite nice, but they weren’t super confident of their medical assessment. They thought that there was a reasonable chance that it could be appendicitis, but that was only one possibility, and they weren’t equipped to make that determination. They recommended that I go to a hospital ER. Oh boy. So, the adventure was getting more exciting by the minute. I was no longer bored. Off we went to the nearest hospital ER.

Once we checked in, the hospital staff began attending to me, immediately. Not true. Not at all. The ER waiting room was filled with people waiting to be seen. Some old, some young. Some with obvious injuries, on crutches and such. Many non-English speakers. I was wondering what would happen if any of them had situations requiring immediate attention. There was significant competition as to who needed the most sympathy. So, I had to take a metaphorical number and wait. By this time, the pain in my gut was actually growing in intensity. Maybe there actually was some kind of issue. All I could do was sit there, leaning down in a kind of semi-stupor. And wait.

After what seemed like several hours, they finally called me, although I’m sure they mispronounced my last name. Everyone does that. In the examination room they decided that an ultra-sound should definitely answer the question, too much pizza or appendicitis? This was decided in, like one minute, after hours waiting thus far.

So back to the waiting room I went, waiting to be called for the ultra-sound. Back to the familiar faces in the waiting room. All waiting. All hoping for some kind of good news. Scanning all the worried faces, I was thinking this would be a good time to do a little entertaining, but I wasn’t quite up to the task. Seriously it would have been a great opportunity to give them some hope. Share with them about how Jesus turned my life around and has healed me many times.

Finally, I was called for the ultra-sound. A little progress. Although the gooey stuff they rub around on your stomach is kind of fun, I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it. The ultra-sound was done in like, ten minutes. And then I was taken back to my new home, the waiting room. More quality time with my new good friends. Awaiting results. The term ‘waiting room’ was certainly apropos. Hurry up and wait. And wait.

At long last my name was again called. This time Julie and I were led back to an exam room to speak with an actual physician. He was quite nice but more importantly he held the secret to the question that had been nagging us nearly all day. Was this a serious situation? Appendicitis? What was it? He looked at us, looked at the scans, looked back at us. He was hard to read. Probably good at poker. The drums started rolling… “Well Jim, to answer your question, you definitely do have appendicitis. The scans don’t lie. Although you don’t have to do this, in my opinion this is an emergency. We should take care of it right away. If you are in agreement, I’ll line up a surgery room here in the hospital and we’ll remove your appendix tonight.”

What could I say? I’ve been pretty close to my appendix most of my life but if it has to go, I guess it has to go. The odd thing is that in the vast majority of cases, appendicitis occurs in children or young adults. So why me? What prompted this. I wondered if it could possibly be a side effect of the Covid vaccine. One always wonders.

Once again, I was led back to my new best friends in the waiting room. Most were Hispanic, so if I would have paid more attention in my three years of high school Spanish, I could probably have had some great high-level conversations. Like, “Como esta? Que opinas Big Bang Theory?” At any rate I was glad things were finally getting scheduled as the pain level was ratcheting up in a serious way. Again, exploiting the word ‘wait’ as much as possible, they finally moved me to surgery. How exciting was that! They then gave me some drugs… that’s all I remember.

When I awoke from my general anesthesia, I found that I was with Julie in a private curtained cubicle space surrounded by other patients in their respective cubicle spaces. How cool was that! I was certainly glad my beloved was with me. Eventually the doctor came in to check on my recovery. He said I was doing well but, with a somber face, said that he had three things to share with me.

The first thing he shared was that the hospital was full, and it was unlikely that I would be moved to a normal recovery room; I would have to stay on the uncomfortable surgery cot the rest of the night. Oh boy, wasn’t that just the top of the world. Popular place to be, apparently.

The next thing he shared with me was that my appendix had been on the verge of bursting. Any longer and it likely would have been much more serious. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Julie, for pushing me to have it checked. Why is she always right on these things?

The third and most significant thing he shared turned out to be the mind blower. The doctor said that they noticed something on the ultra-sound that was not connected to the appendix issue. He said he wanted to bring it to our attention as in his opinion, it needed to be attended to, pretty much right away. That got my attention. I was all ears. Here’s what he said.

Besides just showing the inflamed appendix, the ultra-sound also showed an aneurysm in my Iliac Artery. I didn’t recall hearing any anatomical reference to the Iliac Artery in all my multiple decades of schooling. Iliac? Wasn’t that a Greek poem by Homer? I learned that it’s located close to the appendix. An aneurysm? It was about 3.2 cm in size. A little ballon in my artery. What the heck. Suddenly a billion questions flooded my mind. How in the blazes did it get there? What caused it? What kind of risks do I have? Not being a vascular physician, he had no answers to any of my questions.

Upon returning home from my exciting adventure at the hospital, Julie and I sat down and assessed the situation. We then remembered that I had a scan of that part of my anatomy done a few months previously in preparation for my hip replacement. We found the scan report in my files and noticed something very intriguing. The scan showed that I had the aneurysm even then. How could that be? My orthopedic surgeon didn’t mention it. My primary care doctor didn’t mention it. It was smaller then, around 2.5 cm, so it had grown in that last few months. If it burst, it could actually be fatal.

Long story, short. With the help of a robot named Roger, the vascular surgeons successfully placed a stent in my artery. Very amazing technology that they employ to do that. The ironic aspect to this story is that without having the appendicitis I would never have known about the aneurysm. Sometimes the mysteries of life are mysterious. And the ways of God are mysterious. Thank you, God, for using the appendicitis to reveal the aneurysm! I’m alive thanks to Julie, the doctors and of course God. Hallelujah!! My resurrection will have to wait, which is fine with me.

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Photo by Antonio Zarza on Unsplash