Daddydoit had a painful but nonetheless incredible experience this weekend. After two days of a nasty stomach ache, I decided it was time to go to the ER and get slapped around a little bit. I figured they'd give me some supersonic Pepto-Bismol, and I'd be home before the kids were out of bed. It was three in the morning, and I was a hurting puppy. Turned out that I would have to have an emergency appendectomy.
My wife stayed home with the kids as I piloted our Volvo toward the University of Minnesota hospital. (Neither of understood how sick I really was.) The pain, unfortunately, was too much to bear. So I detoured and checked into Abbott Northwest hospital in Minneapolis, a facility that is much closer to my home.
This turned out to be a good move, because I don't ever remember being treated so well. It started with the woman who checked me in and the first barrage of nurses that stampeded my way. They were all so thorough and so respectful.
One of the nurses, a fellow named Jay, topped them all. He had this great sense of humor that helped keep my mind off of my pain. As soon as it became clear that they'd be slicing me open, he turned on the heart energy. I was doing the John Wayne thing, pretending not to be terrified, and Jay saw right through it. He took me by the hand (literally) and assured me that I'd be okay. He wheeled me to the operating room, keeping me occupied with his wonderful personality. I will never forget Jay!
I don't know if it's me getting old or if they're making the doctors younger now, but my surgeon looked like she stepped off the cover of Teen Magazine. She was really sweet, too. And she did a fantastic job, because I'm up and running two days later!
The great treatment continued until the moment I checked out. The intensive care people, the army of nurses and nurses aides, even the guy who came to clean up the room; they all took the time to treat me like an individual.
Compassion, thy name is Abbott. Bravo!
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