Monday, January 20, 2020

The Parking Lot at Bryn Mawr Hospital

O.K., it has been quite some time since last I wrote a story outlining the folly of being a little dim witted, but just for fun, here we go again.  As some of you may know, about eight months ago I began a new relationship with a wonderful man named Tom. Every day since we met has been an adventure.  Tom is a marvelously smart, funny, sophisticated and entertaining man.  He loves to cook and to drive and tell great stories and can beat most of the players on Jeopardy.  Life has been so good.  I've gained a few pounds and am smiling almost all of the time.

Anyway a few days ago Tom went out to lunch with his son and had two bites of a hamburger and realized he did not feel well.  He came home to his house and really did not feel well.  By the next morning he knew something was terribly wrong and asked if I would take him to the emergency room at Bryn Mawr Hospital.  I, of course was very concerned but happy to do as he asked.  We got to the hospital about 8:30 in the morning.  As it was the weekend, very few patients were there so it was easy to get a room.  Tom had a cat scan that indicated to the doctors he had appendicitis and it was important they do an emergency appendectomy.  They told us the surgery should not take more than 1/2 hour.  If all went well, we should be able to go home that afternoon.

Well, after about two hours in surgery I realized this was not going to be as simple as first thought.  About 5:00 in the afternoon the surgeon, with ashen face, found me along with Tom's daughter and her boyfriend in the waiting room and told us Tom's appendix had been annihilated!!  It had burst to smithereens resulting in the most difficult surgery he had ever performed.  Although it may have been life threatening had we waited another day, he thought Tom came through it well and bravely, but he was going to have to stay overnight to ensure there would be no infection.  Tom was not a happy camper, but he complied.  The next day, Tom's white blood cell count was very high indicating he was fighting an infection.  The doctor said he would have to stay another day to ensure no infection would set in.  Tom was really not happy now, but again he complied.  On the third morning I got a text from Tom saying the doctors gave him the green light and by noon he should be able to come home.

I got to the hospital around 11:30, parked the car in the parking garage and went to get Tom.  We still had a little time before he would be discharged so we both had a little lunch.  About 1:00 one of the residents came and took out the drainage tube that had been connected to Tom and said we could go home.  Although Tom felt a whole lot better he really was terribly sore and had some trouble getting up and down.  The nurse asked if he would like a wheel chair to take him out to my car.  Tom, being Tom said no thank you.  He would be happy to walk.  So we packed up all his stuff and my stuff and I carried a big bag of belongings and off we went to the parking garage to find the car....

But where the heck was the car??  I thought I had parked on 2A.  We had to walk a long, long way to get to 2A, but no car.  Tom is huffing and puffing and I am having a slight heart attack.  We walk down to 1A, but STILL NO SIGN of the G.D. car.  Tom is still huffing and puffing and I am about to have a stroke.  I begin to swear and insist that Tom just sit on a bench by the side of the elevator in the freezing cold and hold guard of the big bag until I find the car.  He gingerly lays sideways on the bench and I run quickly to the entrance of the parking garage to retrace the way I had first come in to park the car.  FINALLY I find the car right there at 1A.  I jump in, race down to the bench where Tom is propped up on his side and looks to be in pain.  I open the window and yell "Tom" who  doesn't realize I am there.  I forget that he still has the big bag.  I just wanted him to jump into the car.  I put the car in park, stopping all traffic behind me and go help Tom get into the car.  Oh the horrors of being a dimwit.  He is so funny and so kind.  He just says, "Kitty, you did good.  You found the car."  Ugh.....

We are home now.  He will live to see another day.  And I will probably live to lose my car in yet another parking lot.

2 comments:

  1. Wow! Isn’t there an app for that!!

    Take a picture of parking spots from now on! Especially in hospitals!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Such a good idea. I will do this Sharon!

    ReplyDelete