Tuesday, December 8th, 2025

What a weekend! Right after I logged into my laptop on Friday, I had huge stomach cramps. At the worst, 8/10 pain. Tammy had a big project and was about to leave for work when I told her about the pain. She cancelled her meetings and called urgent care. When she got to the triage nurse, she handed the phone to me. The nurse asked some questions and I paused when she asked if the pain had been constant or intermittent.

I realized it was intermittent because when I had been curled up in bed, Sasha yapped incessantly, as if she was shouting, “Papa’s hurting!” Her high-pitched barks made me wince. I felt so bad I didn’t even try to get my phone, let alone soothe her. I croaked, “Sasha! Shush!” Of course she ignored me. I was still clear-headed and knew if I called Tammy and whispered, she would worry. The pain dropped and I limped out of bed, walked Sasha to my office and tethered her, laid down, and called Tammy.

My cramps disappeared by 1030am. I was a little shaky. The next available appointment was at 1145am and by then I felt a lot better. I drove us to the address and recognized the building; it was the same hospital my friend Jeff was in a few months back. They took my vitals and some blood and we talked to a doc who wasn’t too concerned. (I wasn’t either because physically, I felt fine. Mentally, I worried it might happen again.) He scheduled tests for 4pm so we had time to go home and rest. We came back and I got an ultrasound, which revealed a 4mm gallstone. Apparently, 4mm gallstones are not an emergency unless they are accompanied by nausea, vomiting, or blood. Nope, nope, and nope. My X-ray was clean. We went home with the simple advice: go to urgent care or ER if it gets worse.

I rested most of Saturday. Unfortunately, at night I started shivering uncontrollably with minor stomach cramps. A hot shower didn’t help so I apologized to Tammy and told her we needed to go to urgent care again. Tammy pointed out there’s no urgent care at 11pm so she was taking me to ER. She tried to start her car but it had an electrical issue so Sean drove. His dash glowed with the orange low tire pressure warning light. Sean sheepishly apologized for not fixing it yet. He said he thought his tires were fine although when I asked, he hadn’t actually tested them with a pencil gauge. We decided to keep going. I closed my eyes and leaned against the cool window. Great, now I get to worry about my stomach and waiting for an Uber on the side of the freeway if Sean’s tire goes flat. We pulled into the parking lot and Sean dropped us off at the front door. It was pretty quiet, only half a dozen other people waiting in the lobby and a few receptionists behind the counter.

—

Tammy covered what happened next in her post. She never told me how she felt about me carrying Natalie at the hospital so when I read it, I cried. I have made so many mistakes as a dad, with both Natalie and Sean, and I rarely feel like I know what I am doing. I think most dads feel that way sometimes. Tammy’s words reminded me I’ve done some good. I’ve even had some great moments of fatherhood. It helped me so much to hear it, especially from Tammy, because she’s seen me at my worst and at my best.

Tammy’s flashbacks also reminded me about mine. The difference is that over the past 15 years, I’ve purposely put myself in situations to try to overcome them. In the months after Natalie’s death, I would drive five or even ten minutes out of my way so I wouldn’t have to pass John Muir Walnut Creek Hospital because Natalie spent a lot of time there. Gradually, I forced myself to drive by so I could beat it. Once, I even deliberately drove to UCSF. I didn’t want to go back. I also didn’t want to be terrified of going to places Natalie had been. It was a terrible idea and it messed me up. I was in a daze when I came home and Tammy was mad at me for doing it to myself.

Another time, Sean’s friend Kai came back from Japan and Kai craved Panda Express. I drove Sean to Kai’s place and we all got in his dad’s car. They drove us to the nearest Panda Express -at UCSF. I was playing Pokemon Go in the passenger seat so I didn’t realize where we were until it was too late. I should have pleaded, “Can we not go to this one?” Instead, I froze. Emotional shell-shock. My thoughts were soaked in psychic molasses and my brain shut down. While they got food, I was terrified I would see a doctor or nurse or staff member I knew. It messed me up again.

I waited 7 years before I actually went into a hospital. In 2018, our friend Chris had a massive stroke and we were afraid he was going to die. My best friend Moe and I went together to John Muir Walnut Creek. Moe drove. It was like approaching a haunted house: squirming discomfort. Uneasiness. Dread. If I had gone alone, I wouldn’t have gotten out of my car. I had so many flashbacks my subconscious put up walls and closed up shop. I followed Moe like a zombie. He got out of the car, I got out of the car. He walked, I walked.

When we stepped in the elevator, I felt dizzy. I must have shuffled out of the elevator with Moe because the next thing I knew, we were in Chris’ room. The beeping of Chris’ IV pole hammered into my head. I had to sit down. Chris was barely conscious and he didn’t know we were there. It was a terrible shock to see his condition but I could only process it later. We got back in Moe’s car and went back home. (Chris eventually made a significant recovery.)

My most recent visit to a hospital was July of last year. My friend Jeff was in John Muir Concord. Natalie was never admitted there so it was a lot easier. It was partly a new experience because I had never been there. At the same time, it was also very familiar because Natalie was in multiple hospitals and I know how they work. I know parking, security, shift change, rounds, X-rays and MRIs and ultrasounds. I know IVs and I’ve cleared the air in line infusion pumps countless times. (You’re not supposed to touch the equipment. I watched them do it so often, I asked if I could do it and the veteran nurses trusted me- as long as I didn’t tell them I was doing it so they didn’t get in trouble. It was mainly to stop the beeping so we could sleep when they were too busy to respond quickly. Most of Natalie’s nighttime nurses didn’t mind although one told me I wasn’t even supposed to silence the alarm. I bit my tongue.)

I know menus and cafeterias, PICU and NICU and ER, code blue, surgeons, PCAs, nurses, doctors, interns, residents, volunteers, and much, much, much more. I know you should be nice to your nurses and even give them candy or cookies or gifts. I know they will go home and go on breaks and be replaced multiple times. So be nice while understanding you will need to start over with the next nurse. I hope you never memorize their shifts like we did at UCSF, because if you do, it means you’ve been in the hospital for a long time.

The stuff above is my way of saying I can begin to imagine what Tammy felt the past three days when I was a patient. What I have done over the past 15 years, she squeezed into three days. Tammy had to watch me, her husband, go in, pale and so weak I needed a wheelchair. It was incredibly difficult for her but she did it because she loves me.

So far, our date has lasted more than 28 years. We’ve gone through our most difficult time together and we’ve had so many great times together. It’s the best date I’ve ever been on and I never want it to end because I love the one I’m with.