About 20 years ago, I was struggling with a bad case of colon cancer (Any such thing as a good case?). My treatment consisted of many doses of chemotherapy and radiation. I tolerated the chemo well, but the radiation damn near killed me. Note I said “damn near”. I’m still here 20 years later so “a miss is as good as a mile”.
At that time, however, I was experiencing a potload of pain. (alliteration again). The prognosis was not great, but they were fighting the cancer in the best way they knew. Bottom line ——. They stopped the cancer, but they caused the worst case of radiation proctitis that they had ever seen at Roper, according to one doctor.
I’ll let y’all google the disease. No details now. Let’s just say it took 4 years of me wearing a colostomy and a couple of abdominal surgeries to keep me above ground. But who’s complaining?
During one of my long hospital stays, I was fortunate to have a terrific night nurse with a unique sense of humor.
He would check in on me using the speaker from his station and using an Indian or Pakistani accent. It would always make me smile in spite of pain at level 6 out of a maximum 10.
This next scene of my story could be considered crude or even blasphemous. I, however, consider it a loud, prayerful, plea for help. I was in the restroom in my hospital room. My pain level was excruciating, (about 8 or 9) and I shouted, “Jesus Christ”.
The night nurse was actually in my room, but I didn’t know it. He responded to my shout. “I’m here.“
He made me laugh with pain at excruciating levels. A great gift from an outstanding care giver.
The marvelous medical staff at Roper St Francis Hospital has saved my life at least three times in the last 20 years. I volunteered there for 13 years, but cannot repay their fantastic efforts to keep me kickin. The combination of a great sense of humor and outstanding medical service skills is an unparalleled curative. Enuf.