What does fear look like?
My husband gently told me today that what I wrote in my last post was all out of order. He knows because he has a thing called “2014 Med Journal.” Sorry for getting things out of order. I’ll do better.
I have never been quite sure what fear looks like, until that night. Not only did I see what fear looks like on that night, but I also knew exactly what it felt like.
I had not been feeling well for several days, nothing I could put my finger on, just not feeling well. So I visited a few doctors, and one chiropractor, who had no idea what was wrong with me. I finally ended up with my cardiologist who said, “Nothing’s wrong with your heart.” He also took blood to do some testing.
Here’s how I ended up in the hospital. I actually remembered the scenario when I read my husband Fred’s notes in his play by play medical journal.
The two of us were sitting at the table eating dinner when my cardiologist called. No, not his nurse practitioner! It was him, in person!
“I just looked at your tests,” he said, “You need to go to the ER immediately!”
I made sure he meant immediately. Immediately like leave your food right where it is and go? He did mean immediately.
So, from Fred’s medical journal, here’s the outcome of that day:
2/13/2014; 12:51am: We just admitted Opie to ICU at Baptist. Extreme dehydration and renal failure. May start dialysis tonite. What a day!”
You may as well know right now that Fred calls me, “Opie.”
Anyway, that was the night when I really learned what fear looks like.
That’s my snippet for now.
Blessings to you,
Kathy (or Opie) In fact, folks call me by different names . . . Kathy, Kathryne, Ope, Becky, Opie, Kalliope
In any order a terrifying memory.