Life has a way of intruding on your best laid plans. Christmas was to be a relaxing day with an early evening dinner with Reeta and John. Who were we to make such definite plans?
Christmas Eve fell on a Sunday this year, and, as usual, we went to worship at the early but crowded Christmas Eve service at Westlake Lutheran. I, along with others on the Alive Music Team, provided the special music for the evening. We left early for our annual trip to the Hollywood hills and the Leland Christmas Eve rendezvous with Santa at Ron and April's gallery.
As we were driving to the Hollywood, I noticed chest pains that radiated into my jaw. After disclosing it to Lorie, she asked if we should go to the hospital instead of the party. I said that it seemed too insignificant to warrant such an action, so we enjoyed the evening. There was no additional chest pain. I slept well, but Lorie was restless wondering if something more significant had occurred and whether I would survive the night.
Being somewhat prudent and having a wife who would not let me rest without checking things out, I agreed to check with Sally, a cardiac nurse and friend from church. She suggested that the tightness in the jaw warranted taking it more seriously. After dropping by the church and taking a present to Johnny and Linda's, Linda called for backup, another friend and nurse, Janel Perez. As a speaker to the American Heart Association leadership later in January, I was having a hard time not taking this experience and recommendations seriously. After all, how can you speak in support of their mission without living their recommendations!
To make a long story shorter, we spent much of Christmas Day at the Los Robles Hospital ER. It was quite a humbling but enlightening experience. The room was filled with a cosmopolitan collection of families who didn't plan on being in the ER for Christmas. There was a man with a wrapped towel around his uplifted arm trying to stem the flow of blood from a cut. He had been there for hours; his would was not life-threatening. Like others he had to wait. There was a boy who scratched his eye; his concerned parents were trying to console him and give directions to family still at home who had to take care of his diabetic brother. They eventually left before being seen after their son's eye seemed to be fine. Time can heal.
There was a woman with cramps, crying frequently, rocking in her seat. We tried consoling her; she thanked us but knew she too had to wait. I would gladly have given my space to her had she not been seen before me. There was a young man from San Diego who had recently had an appendectomy and now, while visiting his parents a week later, he was experiencing sharp pain. There was pain, disappointment, frustration and boredom, but within it all there was a spirit of compassion in the room. It was like Christmas had come to the ER. People tried to console each other. The father of the young man from San Diego talked to me about his chest pain that had turned out to be nothing serious.
There were even moments of laughter. When I asked those around me if I could turn from poker to NFL football, all agreed. Then one gentleman said with a smile, "If you told me I would be watching the Dallas Cowboys, I would have said No!" I was reminded of the words of Alexander Nowell, "God does not comfort us that we may be comforted but that we may be comforters." God was comforting through all of us that day.
Some would seem to go out of turn because an ER isn't fair; they take those in need first. Like the first Christmas, even the savior found that all things aren't fair. Sometimes you get stuck with a stable instead of nice room. Sometimes God doesn't promise a Merry Christmas...just His abiding presence and His saving grace.
Faith does make a difference. As I sat in the ER, I trusted that my eternity was secure; I just didn't want to take advantage of salvation this quickly. I was aware of the gift of life, the gift of love, and the gift of friends and family. I appreciated the Los Robles staff who tried to bring some joy to the crowded ER. Many were wearing Christmas smocks in honor of the day. They smiled and encouraged us, confirming that we had done the right thing by coming in. One nurse, Cherami, took time to explain her unique French name meaning beloved or cherished friend. Indeed that day, she was such a friend to all she touched. I hated being in the presence of so many germs for one day; she and her colleagues faced that collection of germs every day. That's dedication; that day, Lorie and I appreciated it first hand.
After five hours of waiting, two EKG's and blood enzyme tests, I was discharged with instructions to have further tests under my doctor's supervision. Dr. Liberman had said that I was a "boring" patient at my physical the week before, but things were changing. At her direction, I took the CTA test, supposedly the gold standard test. It is yet to be determined whether insurance will pay for the $1,000 test, so it may cost me a lot of gold, but it was worth it to get a good picture of all those little blood vessels in there. I have been given a clean bill of health, but that did not mean I was healthy.
Our memorable holiday was not yet complete. Unfortunately, after seeing the movie, "Dreamgirls," with Jim and Paula Cathcart, we went to dinner at Rosti's. Nearing the end of the meal, Lorie suddenly announced that she felt very sick and needed to go home. I quickly paid our share of the bill, and left to take her to the car. She was noticeably pale and weak. She was having a hard time standing. I held her tightly as we tried to walk to the car. Before I could get her into the car, she fainted. I caught her and laid her onto the ground. Paula had followed to see how we were. A couple coming from the parking lot saw what happened. She was nurse and after realizing she had fainted but was now conscious, suggested that we call 911. I agreed. Lorie vomited and seemed to be aware that she had been asleep. We all comforted her as she prepared for what was to come.
Soon the parking lot at the Promenade was filled with an ambulance and fire truck. The team checked her blood pressure, heart rate and vitals. They suggested that she be taken to the hospital to check her out.
So, you guessed it; we were off to the ER again for the second day in a row. They even recognized us, but this time we went first class. The ambulance has a way of getting you in the back door. No lines this time; she was in a room and on an IV very quickly.
Because of Lorie's diet and exercise, I questioned the thought that it was serious, but again, we had to do tests. She was throwing up with an elevated HR and chills. In short, it turns out that it is a stomach flu/virus. We had confirmation of that because by the time she was ready to be discharged at 1:30 am, I was throwing up in the car as we left the hospital.
We figure the woman sitting next to us in the ER the day before had stomach cramps, chills. We had tried to comfort her. She may have given us a special gift in return, proving that the most unhealthy place to be is the hospital.
We are now trying to nurse each other to health and both of us feel much better. It will be a Christmas we will never forget. We are left with an appreciation for life and what people who have to use the ER must go through. We are also thankful for the health professionals that are there to serve while the rest of us celebrate. There may not have been any doctor's offices open this Christmas Day, but we did find room in the Inn--the Los Robles Medical Center.
