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Self-proclaimed wimp takes trip to hospital

Seems like everyone I know has been sick this winter and flu and cold

season has been exceptionally hard on everyone.

Thankfully, I had dodged both and was one of the few folks at work who hadn't missed a day. I have always been blessed with good health and couldn't remember the last time I called in sick. Ten years ago?

Now there were some days I probably should have called in sick, but I love my job and

can't stand sitting around.

I was that annoying guy who lacked empathy and smugly told everyone I didn't get sick and bragged about never spending a day in the hospital but all that changed Jan. 8 when pain woke me up from a dead sleep.

The major reason I seldom get sick is because I am without a doubt the biggest wimp when ill with

even the smallest of ailment. In the wee hours of that morning I

experienced pain that required an emergency room visit that would only be appeased by really strong drugs. Kidney stones were detected, passed and I was sent home with instructions if I wasn't better in a couple of days to see my own doctor. Things didn't get better and that Friday my doctor thought I had a sick gall bladder which an ultrasound confirmed.

I was put in the hospital Friday night with surgery planned for Saturday. Removal required the relatively old-fashion surgery of being opened up and an additional five days in the hospital. My time in the hospital confirmed things I knew, what others have told me and taught me things I had no idea of.

First, I really am a big wimp and a horrible patient. Hospitals are nowhere to go to for rest, being sick will let you know who cares about you and nurses are the most underappreciated folks in health care. Did I say how miserable a patient I was?

My nurses were extremely professional and caring to me and several others despite working 13 to 15 hours a night.

The first night was the worst and each day I gradually got better while experiencing an appreciation for what nurses do for those most in need.

Thank you to my wife, the doctors, nurses and the folks at St Joseph's for making me well, and for all the support, thoughts, prayers, cards, flowers, gifts and prepared meals from family, friends and employees at The Press.

I left the hospital with a new appreciation for the blessing of good health, praying I'll never have to spend another night, but comforted knowing that if need be it will be there.

Brock is The Dickinson Press publisher.