OK, maybe my back really IS killing me

And I never really did get to sleep Wednesday night. Unlike the "normal" back pain I've experienced in the past by playing too much basketball while carrying an extra...well, lets say 75 pounds... around my middle, bed rest did nothing to make me feel better. In fact, it was impossible even to find a comfortable position, and nothing in MY medicine cabinet would even touch it. At 1 AM I was ready to walk the two blocks to the ER at Maine Medical Center (if only I could have figured out how to put on my pants and shoes); and around 5 I finally broke down and called my dad (who also needs his rest, you know; and had already told me the night before, even before I left for my meeting at church, that I should have called my doctor then).

He came by about an hour and a half later, and we made an appointment to see my treating Oncologist at his office at the MMC in Scarborough (about a 10 minute drive) as soon as they could fit me in. Struggled into my "comfortable" clothes (a pair of nylon warm-up pants, a hooded University of Oregon sweatshirt, my "Bingas Wingas" tee-shirt and an old pair of Converse All Stars sans laces)and away we went. The nurses took my vitals, started an IV line in my right hand, and were beginning to administer my drugs when I had my "episode." First I started to feel a little warm and flush, then a little light-headed, and the next thing I knew I was coming to and everyone was scrambling around like at a Chinese Fire Drill.

But you know, I hear morphine will do that to you. And if you'll excuse the excursus, we actually have a family history of passing out after sleepless nights, no breakfast, and getting poked with a needle. My most notorious episode came during my first weekend on the job as the intern Assistant minister at University Unitarian Church in Seattle, way back in 1983, when I was scheduled to officiate at four seperate Saturday weddings, beginning (in the pouring rain)at sunrise AT Sunrise on Mount Rainer. By the time I got to the third one, back at the Church around 3 pm, I was running on fumes, and as I exited the chancel having pronounced the loving couple husband and wife, I started to feel a little light-headed, reached out to steady myself against the first pew, missed it, and ended up passed out in the aisle instead....

That episode resulted in fire trucks too, and a very panicked Associate Minister, who arrived in the church parking lot just as the paramedics did, heard that "the minister has collapsed in church," assumed it was the Senior Minister (Peter Raible, who would have been just about the same age I am now) and immediately started to wonder about what he was going to do for a sermon the next morning. But as it turned out it was just me, who was doing just fine after a little wedding cake and fruit juice, and I was off to the next wedding (the fun one, I'd been looking forward to the whole day, down at a big house in Madison Park on the shores of Lake Washington with lots of single bridesmaids my own age), unfortunately chaparoned by the Associate Minister, who refused to let me drive myself even after I'd sweet-talked the firefighters into setting me free, and hovered over my shoulder during the entire reception asking me whether I was ready to go...which I really wasn't (especially after the day I'D just had), even though he was.

But back to this morning...the decision was made to admit me to the hospital, so the ambulance came and it was BACK to the ER at Maine Med (which, as you may recall, is only two blocks from my house and where I was originally headed anyway), where I got got the rest of my morphine, was jumped to the head of the MRI line (rescuing me from another 6:45 AM appointment back in Scarborough on Monday), and was eventually admitted to the Oncology Unit on the fifth floor Gibson Pavillon...where, let me tell you, if you ever have cancer, is a GREAT place to be treated. Pain is under control, the NCAA tournament has produced one very exciting (and one kind of predictable) game so far, and I even have free internet access. Not really sure how long I'm going to be here; once my Oncologist has a chance to look at my MRI he will probably begin some sort of treatment on my back, and depending on how well that goes (along with them pain management part)...well, I'd only be guessing. I hope it's not TOO long. But I wouldn't mind staying a little longer either...especially since the forecast for tomorrow is MORE SNOW!