“Loss” and Found: A Blip in Time

By Janet Rossi Tezak

On April 27, 2015, I knew I needed to go to the emergency room of my local hospital. I understood that something was wrong with me, but I didn’t understand what. Little did I know I would have to confront an unexpected, major physical illness. Would I have the “serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference?” (Serenity Prayer).

My memoir traces my three-year journey facing a sudden traumatic illness that took a toll on me both physically and mentally and led me to explore many avenues in my search for renewed health. I hope this book helps others coping with a life-threatening event, whatever that may be, in their quest for healing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781532057953

Janet Rossi Tezak

Janet Rossi Tezak, author of the book, Do I Dare, is a retired community college English instructor and a lifelong writer. She lives with her husband of forty three years, is the mother of three adult children, and the grandmother of a grandson.

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Copyright © 2018 Janet Rossi Tezak.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-5794-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-5795-3 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 09/28/2018

Contents

Chapter 1 The Unimaginable

Chapter 2 The Morning After

Chapter 3 The Best Laid Plans

Chapter 4 A New Way of Life

Chapter 5 A Welcome Distraction

Chapter 6 A Love Affair

Chapter 7 A Scare

Chapter 8 The Visit

Chapter 9 Trying to Exhale

Chapter 10 The Preparation and the Result

Chapter 11 No Guarantees

Chapter 12 One More Time

Chapter 13 Attempts at Normality

Chapter 14 Tahoe in Autumn

Chapter 15 The Tried and True

Chapter 16 An Unusual Thanksgiving

Chapter 17 Christmas and Beyond

Chapter 18 Almost a Lifetime Love Affair

Chapter 19 Serendipity and Choices

Chapter 20 Happy Distractions

Chapter 21 The Passage of Time

Chapter 22 Taking a Stand

Chapter 23 Surgeries: Past and Present

Chapter 24 Coincidence?

Chapter 25 Regrets, I’ve had a Few

My memoir is

dedicated first and foremost to my husband, Richard, whose support, compassion, and strength saw me through the initial days of my surgery and who continues to love and encourage me every day of my life. Many family members and friends also helped me through this difficult time, in particular, my sister, Carole, my sister-in-law, Ritha, and friends, Hunt Kooiker, Wanda Lockwood, and Petti Thall. My therapist Sylvia has continued to provide valuable guidance and direction.

I also wish to acknowledge the members of my writing group, Margaret McIntosh, and Dr. Anthony Payan, who encouraged and supported my writing of this memoir from its inception and Wanda Lockwood, who edited my manuscript.

Some of the names have been changed to protect their privacy.

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CHAPTER 1

The Unimaginable

You know, Rich, I said to my husband on the telephone, I don’t feel right. I think I’ll have to go to the emergency room. I had been debating all day about what I should do. I called my husband at work several times discussing it. I hadn’t felt quite right for two days, but I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong. Gradually, as the day wore on, I knew I had to go to the ER.

Silence greeted me for a moment and then my husband said, You know yourself better than anyone else. If you feel you need to go, then you should. It’s better to find out what’s going on. I have one more patient, so I should be able to join you soon.

I drove myself to the Community Hospital of the Monterey Peninsula, which was five minutes from where we lived. Emergency rooms are notorious for making people wait. Even though this hospital was extravagantly beautiful with art work on the walls, donated by many esteemed local artists, and large glass windows framing the tall, spindly Monterey Pines forest that surrounded the hospital and the whole area, there was no disguising what everyone was there for. I had been sitting in the waiting room for close to an hour when my husband walked through the door. Honey how are you doing, he said, taking a seat beside me, a concerned look on his usually calm countenance.

Hopefully, this isn’t anything too serious, I said, turning to my husband. He nodded, taking my hand ever so gently. Years ago, when we had bought our house, my husband and I commented on the fact that if we ever needed a hospital, it would be right there for us. This turned out to be so true as we had come to the hospital many times over the years, visiting friends and family members or being seen for ailments that turned out to be minor. I was assuming this trip to the ER would be no different.

The light from the day slowly evaporated and night descended, always a scarier time for me. One technician gave me a CT scan and another drew blood. At around 10pm, after five or so hours, my husband and I were ushered in to a small room and seated on a leather couch facing Dr. Jameson. Dr. Jameson’s voice was so low, I could barely hear him say, I’m afraid I have to operate.

Operate, I said. Why? When? Should I make an appointment?"

Right now, he said, looking directly at me. I could hardly believe my ears. Surgery was the last thing I had expected to hear. An extended course of antibiotics maybe, but not this.

I thought back to a month ago when my husband and I had been in Lake Tahoe. I had been eating lunch with a friend. We were trying out a new, little Japanese restaurant when I realized I was shivering, and it wasn’t that cold a day. I quickly drove back to the condo, and lay down on the comfy red quilted sofa. My husband laid blanket upon blanket on top of me, but I couldn’t stop chattering. He took my temperature and gasped. 102, he said. Honey, we have to go to the emergency room right now. In my whole life, I rarely had a temperature, certainly not 102. Where had this come from? I hated to go to the ER, but reluctantly, agreed.

The first sight that had greeted our eyes in the small Incline Village Community Hospital