Chapter 1: Part 4

Continued from part 3
The staff was expecting him when we arrived at the emergency department.
He changed into a hospital gown and eased onto one of those uncomfortable stretchers while I stood beside him holding his hand, babbling on about how relieved I was that we could now get this pain sorted out once and for all. A resident came in to take some information and do some prodding and finally the doctor came in and sent me away while he did a more thorough examination.

It wasn't long before the doctor pushed through the door into the waiting room. Funny, what I remember most about that moment is that I took the paperback I was attempting to read and carefully stuck my finger in as I closed it, to mark my place. So tidy.

"Mrs. Tennant, there is definitely something going on in there and I don't know what it is just yet, but I am going to admit him for some tests."

He waited for me to ask questions but I couldn't think of anything to ask; I was just grateful that something was going to be done.

He told me to go back to Hal and disappeared into an elevator. I was overcome with a mixture of relief and apprehension. I was feeling the first stirring that this might not be a simple problem that could be corrected with a prescription.

Before I returned to Hal, I phoned our daughter M'Liss, who was home on vacation from her job. I managed to say, "I've brought Hal to the hospital," and then felt the sobs beginning to take over in my throat. I am a private crier and fought for control before continuing.

M'Liss pleaded, "Just tell me which hospital, and I'll be right there."

I finally choked out the name and she promised to get a cab and come right away.

When I returned to Hal he looked pretty chipper now that he was getting some attention for his problem. Surprisingly, he was free of pain and curious about what would happen next. M'Liss arrived and she stood beside the stretcher clutching Hal's hand, with tears running down her face.
"Hello Luvvie," he said as always.

All at once we began to get a sense of the terrible pressure we had been through for those frightening weeks. We clung to one another for a bit and then settled down to talk, returning again and again to this mysterious problem. When a couple of hours went by and no one had come to take Hal to his room, I sought out a nurse to ask what would happen next. She gave me our first clue.

"Your husband has a bowel obstruction and we are waiting for a bed for him."

I returned gleefully with this nugget of information and we behaved as though we had won a lottery. He'd get his bed soon, we hoped, and his condition now had a name. Bowel obstruction. Already I worked out in my head that "intestinal obstruction” sounded more discreet and I'd try to use that term despite the fact that the owner of those particular bowels loathed euphemisms and would ignore my prissy approach. I didn't know then that within days good old-fashioned bowels would be the chief topic and focus of our lives, but we were still new at this.
Continued in part 5

Chapter 1: Part 1: Genie Flies Out Of The Bottle

It was almost spring when our lives changed forever. Hal began getting cramping abdominal pains that usually started at six in the evening and faded around two in the morning. We blamed it on a hiatus hernia he'd had for years and for which he consumed enormous quantities of Bromo Seltzer rather than curb his love for spicy foods and alcohol. We thought we'd wait it out and the pain would go away, but after a couple of weeks I was getting exasperated when he'd sit down at the dinner table and almost immediately the pain would take over. It was like clockwork and we couldn't understand what was happening.

Then late one night, the pain switched from strong to agonizing and I drove him over to a nearby hospital where our family doctor had privileges. A large imposing sign at the entrance clearly stated this hospital was not equipped for emergencies, but we naively didn't consider a bellyache a real emergency.

Two residents attended to him and actually localized the exact problem site, something,no one else would do for some time. They thought at first it might be a misbehaving gall bladder, but never reached a definite conclusion and finally sent him home with instructions to stop off at an all-night drug store for an antacid and to come back the next day for an ultra sound. The pain had disappeared before we left.

I used to believe that Hal and I lived under the protection of a benevolent cloud. No matter what troubles came our way, we managed to work through them together, often with a lot of pain.

Hal was a writer and editor, and in our thirty-seven years of marriage he had the same pattern of reaching the saturation point with each job just around the five-year mark. Then he'd joyfully cut loose from the bi-monthly pay check- plus- benefits package and return to the shaky life of freelancing. It's amazing how often this coincided with the birth of each of our six children. It was like working a trapeze without a net. He seesawed back and forth from job security to free-lancing, depending on how calmly I dealt with all those kids and bank overdrafts. It was an insecure life and often it felt as though we were clinging to safety by our fingertips.


With the children grown and on their own, we moved from the suburbs to a tall, narrow house in the downtown section of Toronto. You could say we were living in the guts of the city, because we had settled in the not-yet-trendy Cabbage town, full of flophouses and sad-faced people who drank aftershave for breakfast. We honestly didn't notice the facade of the neighbourhood because we were so dazzled by the space and charm of our ninety-six year old house with three floors and twelve-foot ceilings and space, lots of space. This was a thrill after years of shoehorning six children, two adults and varied animals in a small ranch style house. Hal set up his study down the hall from our bedroom on the second floor and hung out his free-lance shingle, permanently this time.

Hal was a funny, calm guy, even-tempered and loving. He worked harder than anyone I ever knew. He was special. We had good times and bad times like everyone, but the past few years had been fine years and our love had strengthened. We thought we had forever until our lives were altered without much warning. Continued in Part 2