Testing and talking, talking and testing

I was injected with radioactive stuff (like that medical term?) at 10 a.m. yesterday and spent the time until 1:30 at the Dam Cafe, where my friend John Stifler, who teaches at UMass, was nice enough to meet me.

We were due for catching up, and he was impressed by this Northampton-like place in Holyoke.

When I went back for the bone scan, the technician said it was routine to do the whole body for a baseline. I said to go ahead but I was afraid, given my history of surprises, that some unexpected places would light up. I don't think they did or else I would have heard about it, but when he did my feet I saw an area on my left foot light up. I'll get the results on Monday.

There is really no such thing as a person being too nice, but I have to say that the technician gave me a headache, talking loudly and nonstop. He told me he is so hyper he doesn't ever need to drink coffee, and it showed. My only escape was when I went into the machine for my body to be scanned and was able to take a quick nap. I like to chat with people who perform these tests, but there are limits.

The test was in Holyoke Medical Center, where I couldn't help but think of Kevin O'Hare, who was public relations director there and music critic for the Republican and also a talented musician in his own right.

He was so much fun to sit across from at the paper, always so cheerful, coming in with a smile. And when I would call the hospital to see if he could find an expert for me to interview, he never failed to thank me for thinking of the hospital (because many times reporters called the larger Baystate Medical Center).

Gone two years ago at 55, a big loss, the best kind of nice.

Hello from the hospital

I am in the hospital at Holyoke Medical Center getting IV antibiotics for a urinary tract infection.

It made a full onslaught Saturday when I had settled in for a night of watching the Australian Open and indulging in binge watching of "The Office," which my kids turned me onto recently.

I suddenly got very cold around 11 at night, and just as soon as I had covered up with blankets and turned up the heat, I started shaking uncontrollably. I couldn't even steady my finger long enough to send a text. I couldn't find a thermometer and Joe was in Boston, so Meryl came to the rescue and went to CVS and got me one. A had 102.7. I called Dr. Alyea and he of course said to go to the hospital. I dialed 911 for an ambulance because I could barely stand and had begun throwing up like crazy. It's convenient to live two doors from the fire station, because the ambulance came in the blink of an eye.

The ambulance is definitely the way to go. I got right into a room and pretty soon after that got hooked up to fluids and an antibiotic. It's amazing how quickly I felt better.

Joe came back from Boston in the middle of the night, sitting by my side for yet another emergency room visit. They admitted me for a couple of days of IV antibiotics. I soon felt good enough to walk around, but you can't go very far, making me miss the corridors at my old hang-out, Brigham and Women's. The food was pre-ordered, and when lunch came it was something I couldn't even recognize. Same thing for dinner. You could starve in a place like this. Both times a nurse was kind enough to get me a sandwich.  Last night I was happy to get a banana and a chocolate pudding. Yesterday Joe brought me a coffee, but I have already figured out the ropes. This morning I got a cup of the nurses' coffee plus some toast made on the floor so it wasn't stone cold.

Looks like I'll be getting out this afternoon. I'll have to see what kind of mischief I get into next.
Or not.