Reality Check - January 21, 2009

Dad was scheduled for a routine colonoscopy at 7:00 this morning. So routine in fact, he drove himself to the appointment with plans to have mom pick him up after the procedure. At 8:00, the doctor called mom and delivered the news that none of us could have anticipated. During the procedure, the scope became caught, ripping a 3-inch tear in the wall of dad's bowel. The doctor admitted to mom at that time that this was a serious emergency and that dad would be transported to Lancaster General Hospital (LGH) for immediate surgery.

LaWonna and I arrived at LGH at 9:00, with Russ and mom following shortly after. We were escorted into the OR pre-prep area and arrived even before dad. He was coming by ambulance from Brownstown where the original procedure was being done. When dad arrived, he was visibly uncomfortable, but coherent. At this point, we had little information and were somewhat in shock. Already Uncle Merrill, Aunt Vern, Uncle Jake, Uncle Dale, and Aunt Fi had arrived in typical Smucker fashion.

The surgery to repair the perforation began at 10:45 and ended at around 12:30. These hours were long and anxious, but having the support of friends and family was a huge blessing. Finally, we were called in for a consultation with the surgeon. He explained that instead of simply stitching the tear, he decided to remove a four-inch portion of the colon and reattach the unaffected ends. He explained that dad was in the perfect scenario for such a horrible scenario. Because of his preparation for the colonoscopy, his bowels were clear and the likelihood of infectious material escaping was greatly reduced.

Since the moment he arrived at LGH, dad has been cracking jokes between moans and wooziness. Some of our favorites:

• Prior to surgery, he overheard the nurse briefing us on the crowded conditions in the recovery room and she reassured us that she would let us see him as soon as possible after the surgery. His response? "Just tell them to put me in the garage."



• When the anesthesiologist asked for his age, he replied, "Old enough to know better." To which the doctor looked at me and asked, "No really. How old is he?"



• The nurse asked me to get the okay from dad to allow for a blood transfusion in case of an emergency, to which dad replied, "Just make sure it's red."



• Another nurse was commenting on the many colored arm bands that dad had acquired. All dad wanted to know was, "Are they purdy (pretty)?"

As a family, we joked that this experience will at least give dad some new material. All of our lives have been sprinkled with little one liners straight from the brain of Jonas Beiler. Jokes aside, it is difficult to see him in this condition. It's just hard to process.

The doctor from the originating colonoscopy is here with us now. He insisted on coming here and briefing us directly on what happened earlier this morning. His honesty and the immediacy of his contact with us is comforting. In his 29 years of performing colonoscopies, this is only the second incident of this nature that has occured, and never this severe.

For at least the next week, dad will be residing in the "penthouse" at LGH. After that, the recovery process is anticipated to be two months or more. We will be here with him all the way. He has never abandoned us. In this small way, we have a chance to pay him back.

Please pray that his body would be strong and ready to fight any potential complications. The next seven days are considered the most critical.

On behalf of all of us,

Joy LaVale

P.S. As I am posting this, Trinity and Russ are at dad's bedside singing Johnny Cash's Folsom Prison Blues. I am amazed at his demeanor after such a physically taxing day. God's grace is more than sufficient.