Operation a success, but almost died of starvation!

 As we were traveling the mission to furnish the new apartments, we found ourselves on the east end of the mission at the city of Strasbourg. We had just gone to IKEA, and had a load of furniture, when we found at the checkout that the mission credit card and our personal mission card had rejected the more than 1,500  euro purchase and we didn't have enough cash to cover the cost. With disgust we left the merchandise to the bewildered cashier and headed for the mini bus.

   We made the decision to return to Paris since without the furnishings we were at a loss staying in the eastern part of the mission. All in all the problems with the credit cards made our trip back home to Paris a  fortuitous move, since the closer to home we got the sicker I became. By Sunday I felt worse and decided to stay in bed and see if I could ride out the problem. I felt it was food poisoning and that it would run its course and I would be up and around in the morning.

   Monday morning came and the pain was much worse. The pain was so intense that I hit the floor and, as much as my old body could accomplish the fetal position, I tried to find relief in between groans and  quick prayers. A call the the president and his immediate call to a member of the Torcy Ward brought one of the brothers who is a retired doctor. His visit and  rapid exam determined that at my age I had appendicitis. A quick drive to a local hospital put me in the emergency ward. The major difficulty here was that I was given no relief for the pain and I was now among the public and had to maintain some semblance of decorum when it came to moaning and groaning.

   Again it was Brother Pierre Lazarus who used his quiet influence as a doctor to get me attention quicker than I would have received had I had come on my own with Joanne. Wheeled into another waiting room, I was examined by a nurse and then a doctor's assistant. At this time, about  two hours into the ordeal at the hospital, I was given something for the pain. With less pain I was able to take the long wait for my turn at the MRI or, as the French call it, the "scanner".  I passed through the scanner three times and each time I could hear a voice proclaim that there was a blockage and then a repeat that the rest was clear.

   Returning to the waiting room I had no idea what was to transpire, but much later I was wheeled into the operation room. The most terrible part of the operation room and MRI was having to move myself onto another flat bed for each procedure. I am a big boy and the pain of moving from bed to flat table was excruciating to the point I almost bit through my lip. After being situated on the operating table the next thing I remember was regaining my faculties in the recovery room. They told me that the operation ended early Tuesday morning around 12:30 AM, and that the reason it took so long was that the inflamed appendix had adhered itself to another part of the body and they could not remove it without perforating it. This caused some of the infection to enter the area and much of the time was a mop up operation.

   Tuesday I was given liquids through an "iv" and, to my joy, antibiotics and pain killers. On Wednesday night I was offered food, and this was the beginning of my battle for survival. Without the "iv" I was at the mercy of hospital food for my health and over the next few days I had to find ways to fight off the death sentence of French hospital food. We who have spent any time in hospitals know that the food is made to order for hundreds of patients and to get it to the rooms while still warm, it is placed in steamed sealed containers. This process makes the desire of those who try to ingest the food wane. The food has lost its savor and becomes one bland mouthful after another. In my case I was on a restricted diet and at the beginning I could have no solid food.

    Each meal was some type of fruit sauce and since the drinks were coffee, tea or water, I had to opt for water. I drank water morning, noon and night and any time in between. Water became so tasteless that I began to dread having to drink it, but it was necessary so my bodily functions could become more normal. It is a good thing that I became friends with the nurses and most of the food staff because at meal times I began to have them bring me the fruits that were delivered at each meal. I began to hoard the fruit in a special drawer in my room so that the one food handler wouldn't confiscate my precious fruit stash. So with pears, apples, kiwi, and some smuggled strawberries, I made my own fruit salads with the packages of sugar I asked for, even though I didn't drink the coffee or tea.

   This ability to get my hands on fruit and extra containers of apple and other fruit sauces became my life line to survival as the week went on and I was introduced to more solid foods. There are not many foods I don't eat, but each time I was presented with the food of the day it was always something that I did not like to eat. One day I had an endive salad. Endive is a bitter plant that I had to come to France to experience. I found out it was something that  was to be avoided, especially when it came almost exclusively by itself. I did find two very small pieces of tomato and a ripe olive in the salad and I devoured the three of them. Then came the main course, squash and fish. I am not a fish eater and squash is never on my birthday menu. The two steamed together was more than my poor nose could take. I am not here to hurt those of you who love these foods, but I want you to think of foods you would avoid and that puts you in my position. It was at times like this (and that seemed to be every meal) that my stash of fruit would save the day.

   I asked the nurse if there was any fruit juicy that was off limits to me and she replied that there was not, but because of limited resources fruit juice was not on the menu. I then got Joanne to smuggle in a carton of grape juice and she brought some buttered cookies because butter came with the hard crusted small piece of bread each meal. The taste on my palate was heavenly. The juice burst upon my taste buds and I almost thought I had reached an out of body experience.

   As the week went on I regained a little strength and made some exercise trips around the room and little by little the tubes that were attached as companions began to disappear and by Sunday I received permission  to return home. I appreciate the expert doctor and nurse care I received during my stay. I don't think that I could have been cared for any better in the U.S., but I maintain that if I hadn't had my wits about me, the favorable care by nurses and doctors could have been thwarted by a slow death by starvation due to hospital food.

   I have had the care of Joanne for a week. I promised president that I would stay home for a week before getting back to work. The familiar foods prepared by Joanne brought back my desire to eat and taste. We got back to work yesterday as planned and had a full day. Today is for rest and answering phone calls to plan the rest of the week.

   I would like to reflect on the experience and say that an operation that comes mostly to the young hit me just a couple of years later than when you may have gone through it. I never did say why me, but I began to reflect on what I have learned since this experience. First we never know what this life will bring to our frail existence. Second is the pain I had during this time. My first thought was that I need to depend on my Savior, Jesus Christ, so I don't come to the judgement day and have to pay the price of my sins without His merciful forgiveness. The pains of my sins without His atonement would be more than I experienced this last month. I have also learned, though, that the pain I endured was nothing to the excruciating pain that Jesus suffered due to His being willing to take upon Him our pain, sins, and sufferings.

   I am on the mend and would like to thank you for your prayers and kind thoughts on my behalf. Life will continue and the work will forth with or without us, so let's get on wagon and become a part of this great endeavor.

Love,

 Jack