Several years ago Rebecca came into my life. She was promoted form receptionist to CSR/Insurance agent. If you ask me, her skills are WAY beyond receptionist level, but it was the only job this English major found, right out of college. We became work friends, you know, small talk about life, work, etc. Then one day she became my best friend.
I hadn't been feeling well for months. I lost weight, couldn't eat, had fevers and no energy. I went to my family doctor several times and was told I had the crud that was going around. In the back of my mind I knew that wasn't true. I knew the signs. I wouldn't say I chose to ignore them, but if you know me, you know that I lived in denial for most of my childhood. Fast forward to April 2008, a couple days before Brad's birthday. I called my GI, who was in Chicago, and told her about my symptoms: weight loss, fevers, lack of energy, but the kicker was the hard lump in my abdomen. She told me to go the ER and have a CT done. Brad was working, my parents lived out of state, so the only logical thing to do was to go by myself. Fine. No big deal. Rebecca, being the sweet, caring work friend she was, offered to go with me. I welcomed her offer. At 5pm we went over and waited in the ER for what seemed to be forever. Hours later I found out that I had an abscess the size of a softball in my abdomen, caused by a fistula. Joy. I knew what was next. Surgery. I remember driving home from the ER around 11pm and stopping at McDonalds for chicken fingers. I mean hell, I'm not going to be able to eat for a while, so let's live it up and eat shit.
The next day I talked to my GI (who I had seen since I was 18). She urged me to call my cool-rectal surgeon. I spent the better part of that Friday playing phone tag with the surgeon' office. My surgeon was on vacation. At 4:50pm my surgeon's partner called me back. I explained what was going on and he urged me to get seen ASAP. But who? I live in dinky Kalamazoo, Michigan. The reason I never switched doctors was because of the lack of specialized care in the area. Mind you, I was 28 and had lived in Michigan for about 10 years. He suggested I contact U of M, MSU, and the Ferguson Clinic in Grand Rapids, where he had done his training. I called all three and left messages. At 5:10pm I'm still at work trying to contact a surgeon. My boss and co-workers are hovered over me making sure I'm okay. As I'm getting into my car I take a phone call from Rebecca Hoedema, from the Ferguson Clinic, in Grand Rapids.
I'll spare you the details about my hour long ride to the ER, the ER trip, the tears and phone calls to my parents flipping out. I loved Dr. Hoedema. She put me at ease instantly, but admitted me to the hospital to have the fluid drained from my abdomen. The problem was that Brad, who works nights, could't stay with me for the procedure. With my parents being 3 plus hours away, my work friend, Rebecca, offered to be with me for the procedure. At the time I didn't want to impose, but she insisted. I remember so little about that weekend, but I'll never forget how it felt to gain a close friend, and now best friend. As I was wheeled into the radiology department, I had Rebecca by my side.
The tech assisting with the procedure asked Rebecca who she was. She replied "Rachel's co-worker". The tech told Rebecca that she was not just a co-worker, she was a friend. I get chills thinking of how our friendship started. It was the beginning of something wonderful. I'm so lucky to have such a fabulous co-worker and best friend!!
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