Last Sunday I was taken to the hospital by ambulance.

But this isn't how this story begins. In 2023, I found out that I was in congestive heart failure due to a bad mitral valve that I had had since birth. I had to get it replaced with a titanium valve, because it was either that, or within a year I would die. So even though I didn't want to, I underwent open heart surgery to replace the valve, even though I was scared to death. But my wife was there to support me and to get me through the month's worth of rehabilitation that I had to go through to get strong enough to live a normal life again. I was so grateful for her love and the compassion that she showed me in the time that I needed her the most. Flash foward three years, almost to the day of my surgery. I am at home being loaded up into an ambulance because of the excruciating pain that I am having in my abdomen. To let you all know, this has been getting worse over the last nine days, mostly due to the fact that I had not been able to take a shit. Two days before, on Friday, I left work early and called my doctor via telehealth. She told me to take Miralax twice a day as a laxative and Senna once a day, as a stool softener. She told me that if my condition didn't improve by Monday, to try a suppository and to call her. By 7pm on Sunday, things had not improved, only gotten worse. I couldn't even move from my bed on my own without experiencing agonizing pain in my stomach. I called 911 and the ambulance came and took me to the ER. The immediately gave me some pain killers and took me for a cat scan. It turned out that I had a obstruction in my colon and a severe case of diverticulitis. I was then admitted to the hospital. For the next four days, they gave me IV antibiotics until I was able to go to the toilet several times a day. I was in pain, but not as much as I had had. I was improving. But it was different in the hospital this time, compared to when I was there in 23. I was totally alone. I had no one there telling me that they loved me. No one there kissing my forehead. No one there holding my hand. I could feel the emptiness in my heart. I am glad that I am feeling better, and that the doctors and nurses were there to heal me. But my heart still aches.