Cold Comfort
Mary T. Shannon
Leaning against the hospital bed’s cold metal rails, I gazed down at my husband lying flat on his back. Under the harsh fluorescent ceiling lights, his olive skin looked almost as pale as mine.
We’d been in the outpatient unit since 6:00 am for what was supposedly a simple procedure–a right-heart catheterization to assess the blood pressure in John’s pulmonary arteries. Now it was 3:00 in the afternoon.
Before we’d arrived that morning, John had seen the procedure as a chance to take a day off from the clinic where he practices internal medicine.
“I think I’ll go out this afternoon and hit a bucket of balls,” he’d said as we drove to the hospital. “My procedure shouldn’t take that long.”
“Are you sure you’ll be up to golfing afterward?” I’d asked.
“Right-heart catheterization is a simple outpatient procedure,” he’d answered, as if talking to one of his patients. “The pulmonary artery pressure will probably be somewhat elevated, just like the echo showed, and then the pulmonologist will decide if I need another medication, that’s all.”
After thirty years of marriage, » Continue Reading.