Monday, January 11, 2010

San Antonio proved pleasant enough if chilly—the Arctic blast that had frozen the East had come this far—and I visited the Botanical Garden, worth a visit with a variety of desert plants. Friday was even colder but my thoughts were on Big Bend, and I was hoping that the weather there would be more temperate. After getting my rental SUV, a Chevy Traverse, a few hours later than promised, and picking up my UPS package, by noon I was on route 90 heading toward Ulvalde. The terrain was mainly flat but better things were to come. I had played 9 holes of golf at the Brackenridge Park Golf Course in San Antonio, and with the sun out, I decided to try another 9 at the Ulvalde course. I was playing well, but when I approached the 7th hole my stomach told me demons were approaching. I finished up and began driving and then it began. I had to pull over every ten minutes and by the time I got to my motel room, I was in the midst of a double-barreled intestinal attack that would last for four more hours. At that point I was dreadfully weak and fearful that I was becoming extremely dehydrated. I had to get help, and I couldn’t have crawled out of the room, never mind drive to an ER. I called the motel operator and asked him to call for an ambulance, the first time that has ever happened to me. In a few minutes the two ambulance workers appeared and once they got me into the vehicle, one of them hooked me up to an IV to start to counter the dehydration. I wanted something for the intestinal problem, but the fellow said I had to wait until I got to the ER. They wheeled me in and in a few minutes a nurse was giving my some Zofran, a drug I remember from my chemo days.
I was always scared of hospitals until the four days I spent after the colon resection, so having to spend the night in the ER didn’t bother me too much. I couldn’t get warm enough, however, even with an extra blanket the nurse gave me, but overall everyone was kind and professional. The attending doctor was an avid fly fisher and hunter and his stories were entertaining even if I found myself losing my focus occasionally. I had no idea what time it was but as the night deepened I was left to myself and I drifted off into brief spells of light and uneasy sleep. The nurse had said that they were going to release me when I had finished the second sack of saline solution and I was actually worried that they would release me too early. At 4:30 the nurse returned and told me it was time to go. I was feeling much better and when she took the IV out I was greatly relieved. It took me a few minutes to be able to stand up but by 5:15 I was in a cab on the way back to the Comfort Inn.
I fell into an exhausted stupor but awoke fairly refreshed at 8:30. Now I had to make a big decision. Should I push on to Big Bend where I had a non-refundable reservation for that evening or should I spend another day near a hospital or at least near reasonable medical services. If things went wrong in Big Bend I would have a very long way to go for any significant treatment. I pictured a couple hour ambulance drive to Alpine (where the nearest hospital was); it was not a ride I wanted to get on. The doctor had thought I could make Big Bend that day so after filling my anti-nausea prescription and picking up some supplies, I headed off and prayed for the best.

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