While most people in Baristaville were sitting down to a feast of turkey, cranberry sauce and all the fixings, I was dining on berry-flavored barium sulfate with a side of morphine at St. Barnabas Hospital in Livingston.

I have Crohn’s disease, the abdominal equivalent of corroded pipes. I’m sure plumbers get a lot of calls on Thanksgiving or the day after. But my pipes clogged up the night before Thanksgiving (technically, this is called a small bowel obstruction) just from one or two pecans I’d popped in my mouth while preparing the topping for a sweet potato bake.

Erika Bleiberg, our trusty daily editor, rides the ambulance squad in Glen Ridge, and had told me always to take the ambulance to the ER because you’ll get through admitting and triage faster. So around 7 a.m. on Thursday morning, after fighting the pain all night long, we called 9-1-1. My son Noah, who is also an EMT, rode in the rig with me. Erika also showed up in uniform, even though she wasn’t on duty, because she recognized the address.

In the past, I’ve gone to Mountainside for my emergencies, but as much pain as I was in I was aware that Mountainside and Aetna, my insurance carrier, weren’t on good terms. I knew I’d be seen in Mountainside’s ER no matter what, but if I needed admission, which was likely, I’d have to be transported to another hospital anyway. We chose St. Barnabas.

Through my pain- and painkiller-induced haze, I discerned a few differences between the two hospitals. For some reason, the morphine administered at St. B. made me feel like an elephant had stepped on my chest, something I’d never experienced at Mountainside. St. B., as a teaching hospital, has leagues of interns and residents marching through — though nowhere as many as at St. Luke’s Roosevelt in New York City, where I was first diagnosed and treated 27 years ago. The surgeons seemed to call the shots more at St. B. than at Mountainside. The nursing staff at both hospitals was mostly good, occasionally bordering on saintly.

We decided that Thanksgiving at my house should go on without me, since I’d already prepared half the meal and there was a 21-lb. turkey sitting in the sink, but some of the niceties that I’d arranged — like place cards — were forgotten. All around me, as I was shuttled from the ER to radiology back to ER and then to my room, orderlies and nurses cheerfully wished each other “Happy Turkey Day” and compared their hours.

The first day was all about the pain. I became afraid of morphine, and of painkillers injected directly through my IV, so the pain didn’t really get under control until midnight of Thanksgiving. (Thank you, dilaudid.) I won’t go into the other details of my treatment, which like the other kind of plumbing, are best kept out of sight.

I managed to write this on my iPad shortly after the dilaudid kicked in:

How we take our health for granted and how quickly it can all come smashing to the ground. And so yesterday (and there’s a word that quickly becomes meaningless when you’re in hospital) I am puttering around enjoying all the tasks that go into making a Thanksgiving, enjoying the gold of the living room, looking up recipes for sweet potatoes on the internet, cutting and gluing pieces of fancy art paper into name cards, and the next day I am at the hospital where suddenly the details fall away, to be replaced by one simple gigantic concept: pain.

The second day was about sleep, the third day about getting to know my roommate and the pleasures of watching silly movies on TBS, the reintroduction of food (including that blessed elixir, coffee!) and working the bureaucracy to get sprung from the hospital. Because my internist practices at Mountainside and my gastroenterologist works out of Morristown, I didn’t have a personal relationship with any of the doctors who were treating me. But a sharp nurse my last day in the hospital kept the discharge process on track.

Thanksgiving dinner finally arrived for me around 4:30 p.m. Saturday on a tray and it was my last medical test. My nurse was allowed to release me into the world if I consumed it without getting sick. There it all was, sans the cranberry sauce and the pumpkin pie, hospital style: stuffing, mashed potatoes, sliced turkey, gravy, cooked carrots.

The stuffing was palatable, and the dinner roll was blandly pleasant. The rest of it was truly awful. There were no place cards, candlelight or wine.

But it was food. My roommate, still on a clear liquid diet, was cheering for me from the next bed. And blissfully, amazingly, there was no pain. And for that I had to be incredibly thankful.

29 replies on “How I Spent My Thanksgiving Vacation”

  2. YIKES!!! Horrible news. the prof hates when the b-net Queen goes down.

    Please get well and know that I’m thinking of you. And extend my best wishes to your family.

    Get back and better so we can continue to play in your sandbox!!!

    (fyi: Bobby Flay is thinking of doing a Throwdown at St. Barnabas featuring the “berry-flavored barium sulfate with a side of morphine.” I bet he can make it go down easier.)

    GET WELL!!!!

  4. @ Deb…Geez!… and I thought my stay at home cold was bad this week. Glad to see you’re up & about. Thank God you had health Ins! What, no jello?

  5. prof, you may be amused to know that I was afraid to describe my African-American hospital roommate as “delightful” for fear I’d stumble into another linguistic quagmire. Thanks for the kind words, all. Feeling much better.

  7. Sorry to hear that, Deb. Well, once you’re 100%, you’ll just have to make up for lost time…who says you can only feast on Thanksgiving Day food on Thanksgiving?

  8. Wow, so sorry to hear you were under the weather. Stay well and never munch on a pecan, ever again.

  9. So very sorry that you had all of that happen to you on a nice holiday. It’s bad enough – but to happen suddenly on a holiday, after alot of planning and cooking, is very upsetting.

    Erika, our son rides the Springfield EMT ambulance, and has been involved there for years!! He is also the former accountant of the org. – as well as a Medic of the Springfield EMT. They usually go to Overlook, in Summit. Great & giving people are what these folks aere all about!!

    Debbie, heal quckly, prayers for you, from me
    Sandy & Karen Block

  10. Feel better, Debbie.
    We have cousins and in-laws with Crohn’s, so we know how dreadful it can be. And thanks again for bringing us the joys of Baristanet.

  12. Yikes, what a drag! Sorry to hear about it, but glad you’re feeling better. Hope your family saved you the best leftovers.

    Carolyn

  14. Welcome back to B-Ville Debbie! That was an amazing review on so many levels. The Barium fb post had us all concerned. Looks like a rapid recovery is in the cards. Having experienced St. Lukes and Mountainside ERs, my Aetna plan may not be long for this world. Among my most vivid memories of back surgery at Mountainside were the Morphine induced hallucinations. Who knows what might have resulted if I had an iPad handy?

  15. I am constantly amazed, amused, and awed by the quality of the posts and personalities on this site. It does not surprise that in pain and disappointment missing the family Thanksgiving fare Ms. Galant would, with iPad in hand, record her painful adventure, comment on hospitals and their respect service, give advice regarding entrance to an ER via ambulance (I’ve used that method more than once and it’s excellent advice) review the food and make note of her own choice of adjectives with one of her readers in mind.

    Bravo! I’m so glad you are well again. You provide us much pleasure and I suspect more than a few people here are thankful for your efforts.

  21. I work in healthcare, and this shows how things can really change in the blink of an eye, and reminds me how thankful I should be for good health and for that of my friends and family. Glad you are on the road to recovery!

  22. Dear Deb – hope you’re back to your quirky self soon. Sounds like you’re almost there.

    p.s. Honey says “aarf”, and sends a wet kiss.

  23. Sorry you had to go through this, Debbie. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Your experience certainly proves that life can turn on a dime. Like happyphan said, we should all be grateful for our good health!

  25. Oh Dear! I go on a 4-day turkey induced hiatus and look what happens!
    Seriously though, Deb, I hope you’re feeling better, and snug at home in your own comfy jammies, with a cuppa joe in your hand. Wishing you the best.

  26. I’m so sorry you had to go through this–on Thanksgiving no less. Wishing you lots of good health and hugs for the rest of the holiday season.

    Glad to know that you’re on the mend!

  28. I actually didnt read this thread until now because I really didnt care how people spent their thanksgiving (I am procrastinating work right now, and glad that I clicked) Crohn’s is a tough disease to live with. I’ve studied the pathophysiology in school and treated patients with the worst “corroded pipes” symptoms you can imagine. At least you are on the top of the list to receive medical marijuana!

  29. Mine was much better than yours Deb – sorry to hear that you were sick and glad to hear that you are back home. As for me, I spent T-Day in Ireland with my daughter. We went to Dublin, Killarny, Killkenny, the Rink of Kerry (which was amazing) and a few other places in between. The only downside was that Dublin had its worse snow/ice in 17 years which made walking extremely dangerous (sober or snookered!) But being the good troopers that we are, we managed to rise to the challenge.

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