When Pride Becomes a Matter of Life and Death: The Shocking Truth Behind Embarrassment
I didn’t like being separated from my boys. I asked if we could speed the process; I really wanted to be sent home Sunday. There would be no accelerated process for me. I needed to wait forty-eight hours as heparin, a blood thinner, dripped into my veins. My echocardiogram and coronary angiography were scheduled for Monday.
I sent a note to my graduate students Saturday night to inform them that I would not be in on Monday. The note included the lines: “I won’t be in Monday, and I might be out Tuesday too. It all depends on what the doctors say. I dropped by to get something looked at and they want to run tests during the week. I feel fine, so don’t worry.”
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