Two hours later, she direct-admitted me to the hospital. And when I say “direct-admitted,” that’s exactly what I mean: she didn’t even let me go outside. I walked from her office right over to the admitting desk and straight from there to a bed.
Doc C suspects it’s my gallbladder giving me all this trouble and has ordered a bunch of tests, starting tonight.
I missed the dinner hour so Ken ran off to Safeway to get me some food.
Asking for prayers that the doctors, nurses, and lab technicians will get an answer soon as I’m mentally at the bottom of the barrel.
Search the Website
Use keywords in the search box below to find what you're looking for.
