Uncle Earl’s Gall Bladder is Gone

My Uncle Earl is in his mid 80’s and he has been ailing from heart trouble, blindness, and most recently, gall bladder. From the time that I sat on his knee as a young child, Uncle Earl has had an uncanny sense of humor with ability to make people laugh and often it involves exploiting their own clumsy predicaments. A few years ago, he began tripping on his own difficulties.

He was an avid golfer all of his life, and a pretty good one. Of course, he played on his own course that he knew like the back of his scorecard. He could read every green better than most of his competitors.

When he retired in Florida, he had to learn a new course, but this was easy because as he observed, they are very flat, though the sand traps are enormous.

His vision began to blur, worsening rapidly. He was diagnosed with degenerative blindness. His reaction was to double up and play more holes faster while he could still see.

He is also an avid card player, so to overcome his disability, he bought a magnifying machine that would enable him to see cards well enough to remain very competitive. His only complaint was that he was sure others at the table were cheating and he could not see to catch them.

Earl’s heart was getting weaker and his blood pressure was high. Of course trying to get him to cut down on unhealthy Midwestern eating habits would be impossible.

Earl was slowing down, and with all his troubles he was getting depressed. His wonderful wife kept his spirits as high as they could get, though he did not like it when she made him walk through the local antique dealer as he was afraid he would knock something over, he said.

Then came the gall bladder problem and the doctors said it had to come out. He went into surgery and it was very hard on him. When my Dad saw his younger brother in such bad shape, he was shocked and proclaimed that it looked as if the end was near. Dad said Earl told him that he had a talk with God, and God said that he would take him.

Not being close to where I could check on Earl, we all said our prayers. I wrote Earl a letter describing my medical calamities that I thought would make him laugh. One story was about when I went fishing and caught a sail fin catfish, a slimy saltwater fish with a caustic odor.  I wanted the fish off my line that was attached to a steel leader. I kicked the fish with my Nike tennis shoe and drove the fin through my foot.

It really hurt, though I was able to dislodge it and soaked my foot in salt water, thinking that it would be OK. The next morning my foot was the size of my thigh and hurt like hell. I drove myself to the doctor where I explained the story to Dr. Otero. Dr. Otero said there is only one thing to do, “operate.”

Operate! When?

He replied, “Right now. Roll over onto your stomach.”

Apparently the fin had broken off in my foot and it had to come out to stop the infection.

Dr. Otero asked his nurse to prepare for surgery and they washed up. The nurse gave to me a fine local anesthesia and I could not feel a thing.

I was talking to the doctor as he got a pair of pliers and a surgical knife to give it a go. As he maneuvered and gave it a tug and a pull, he pulled out the large fin at which the nurse saw this and passed out. She slid right down the wall and onto the floor.

He had to quickly stop my bleeding and patch me up so he could then revive his nurse.

That was one of many such real stories that had to share with Uncle Earl, but my Dad said he did not share it because he felt that it was too late.

Now, I know that it takes time to recover from such operations as gall bladder; I was less pessimistic despite the negative reports. As fortune would have it, Dad emailed a note with two pictures attached showing Earl sitting comfortably in a chair with a very big smile.

God wasn’t yet ready for him, I guess, and he said he wants to hear more stories.