Damn Grief ... Damn Extra Pain
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny at Twitter
I can't believe today ... I choked up, tears began flowing down my cheeks ... and heavy grief weighed on my Heart. I wonder why?
I met up with someone I worked with many years ago at the hospital. We both instantly recognized each other, began smiling. We began ... talking up a storm.
She told me that her husband had died, and that she had almost died. I told her about my medical conditions, also. We talked about how fortunate we both were.
She was shocked to know my son, Tommy ... had died. She knew him when he also, worked at the hospital. All the women loved Tommy ... Tommy was always kind, polite, soft-spoken.
I couldn't believe when I was telling her ... the heaviest of grief sat on top of me. I held my grief back ... because who in the heck wants to talk to someone who has lost someone. All they want to do is cry, get pity. Not me ... I don't require someone's pity ... I'll walk away from them. I don't feel sorry for myself, and I sure won't let someone feel sorry for me. I just don't have time to play 'pity games'.
I had to stop talking about Tommy. I just knew I could talk about him ... now. What in the heck happened? Is it because just underneath the surface just as fish are beneath the surface of the water ... grief was waiting to get me?
It's strange how I think all is okay ... out of the blue grief streaks out like a snake in the grass to try to strike me down.
I have had all the extra pain from my accident, and some other worries, and knowing Tommy's birthday is just days away on my mind. Yesterday evening my chest began hurting really bad. Bad enough I became frightened. I drove myself to the hospital in Henderson, NC. I hope to never go back there.
They did chest x-rays, EKG, and did blood work. Each time they did a test ... they put me back into the waiting room where really sick people who were vomiting into bags, coughing, sneezing, blowing their noses. I could smell the vomit ... it made me sick. I heard some people saying they'd been sitting there for 6 hours.
It began getting dark ... I had been there for 3 hours ... never saw a doctor. I got and spoke to the ER Registration clerk ... she said it was likely I'd be there several more hours before I could be seen by a doctor. By this time, my chest pain had eased off ... and it was dark outside. This prompted my decision to leave. I was by myself. I had no one. It didn't matter ... I wanted to get home.
My chest began hurting once again on the way back, but not so much I felt I needed to go back to that hospital. Like I said, I didn't like how they put the patients into the waiting area each time they did a procedure ... where people were very sick. I have to be careful being around people who have colds, and such. I can end up being in the hospital too easy. I've had pneumonia too many times.
I can't believe a doctor didn't see me with severe chest pain. Thankfully, I got better. Suppose I hadn't? The good thing is I had Skip talking to me by cellphone ... I had a bluetooth on. He knew what was happening.
For me to leave home in the evening ... you have to know the pain was very severe. Enough so, I was worried. I didn't think to call the rescue. I don't like to put others to a lot of trouble. I wondered if it was my imagination ... or if something was really wrong. I still don't know what was wrong. I do have a doctor's appointment at 2:00 pm today.
Note by this Author:
When I used to work in the hospital ER ... anyone who came in with chest pain was immediately seen by a doctor, not stuck back out in the ER waiting room. Thankfully, I am okay now ... but, they didn't know if I was okay any more than I knew when I came in. I wouldn't have been there if I hadn't been afraid. I never just up, go to a hospital ER.
Photo/true account on 11-03-2015 are both owned, written by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
Colors As I Go
grief (32) only child (4) Scary (2) Boiled eggs (1) Distrust (1) Don't call me Faye (1) Dying (1) I hate to be called Faye (1) I'm afraid of the dark (1) Middle age woman (1) Pain that reaches the soul.. can't be seen (1) Running (1) Where did my youth go? (1) dying in a beautiful way (1) life is fragile (1) light on my path (1) my son (1)