The 5D Gallbladder
There were so many gunshot wounds that came into the Vanderbilt University ER early Saturday morning July 5th that the staff thought at one point there had been a mass shooting. In fact, what really happened is that a whole bunch of folks celebrating the Fourth of July on Broadway found out the hard way that what goes up in drunken celebration must come down… with the same velocity. Yes, that’s right… firing a gun in the air results in that same bullet coming right back at ya.
In the meantime, Pete and I were in an ER room at Vandy trying to mitigate his unrelenting abdominal pain. It had been brewing for days, and really in retrospect for years. But around 2:30am the pain was so bad that we decided to get help. If you know Pete at all, you know that this is a really big deal. He rarely complains, if ever, about pain. It took quite a bit of meds to bring it from a 10 down to a 6 while we waited for the CT scan machine to service all of the gunshot traumas before it had space for Pete. Eventually all of the big scary reasons for such pain were ruled out, and we were left with a diagnosis of acute pancreatitis from a wonky gallbladder. He had surgery Sunday, with instant relief of his pain. By Monday afternoon he was home. He has been recovering beautifully.
I have been in healthcare for most of my life, as a caregiver for my father and as a provider. I know too much. I know all of the things that can go wrong, and have seen simple procedures turn into catastrophes. If we had been in Louisville, I don’t doubt for a single minute that I would have been on the phone, relentlessly micro and macro managing Pete’s care… calling old colleagues, arranging for the best surgical team and anesthesiologist, etc. But at Vandy we knew no one. It was just the two of us and a team of total strangers, all of whom appeared to be under the age of 30 (Vandy is a teaching hospital… lots of residents). And yet, we were at peace. Even bearing excruciating pain, Pete had a sense of peace and as his witness, so did I. In fact, the entire experience, from ER door to discharge, was one of the most serene and mystical events of my life. I am still unpacking it all, but I wanted to share some of the reasons why I felt so held during this emergency:
Vanderbilt University Hospital is incredible. We both commented separately that if we had worked at a place like Vandy, we may never have left healthcare. Top notch experience from top to bottom. Our every need was attended to promptly, and the staff was incredible to us and to each other. I worked in every hospital system in Louisville, and nothing compares to this. It’s just different in all the right ways.
I have been sober since 2019. The only drug I used to soothe my worries was a chocolate chip cookie and a Diet Coke from Panera. Sobriety has been the clarity I didn’t know I needed when I chose to quit drinking. The program I am currently working to compliment my sobriety has given me the tools to surrender my need to control anyone or anything, and helped me focus on myself. These tools came in very handy during our stay.
I have an incredible community. Over the years, I have been very intentional about who and what is in my life. Because of this, my circle of support is healthy and robust. Whether you made the trip down to sit with us, regularly checked in with texts, gave distance energy healing, took our dogs on a poop walk, or included us in your prayers, we are grateful.
Because of my spiritual practice and dedication to following my intuition, I knew that I would be alright no matter what happened. This kind of peace just takes time and lots of practice. But even when my mind went to the worst possible scenarios, my higher self knew that I could handle it and that I would be fine.
Pete and I have a healthy relationship. Our relationship is easy and healthy and free because we are both dedicated to working on our own individual shit. So when one of us is down, like Pete was, the other can step in to help from a healthy place and stand as witness rather than as rescuer. I’ve said it a million times… because I’ve learned from experience… relationships are not hard. Showing up authentically is hard. Finding a partner who is also showing up authentically is hard. But when two people show up authentically for each other, and are willing to consistently and continuously work on their own limiting beliefs and quirks, a relationship is easy.
Sunday night Pete was out of surgery and pain free. I left to go home and take care of the doggies, and Pete settled in for sleep. And in that quiet space, he had an overwhelming sense of I am in the right place at the right time with the right people… as if every single nurse, doctor, cleaning person, cafeteria worker, and valet attendant was part of his soul tribe. We both walked away from Vandy feeling like we had just unlocked some higher level of being, and that all of the sudden every timeline had converged into this one moment. In that hospital, of all places, we felt like we stepped into the 5D. It was serenity, in its purest form.
As of this writing, exactly one week after Pete’s return home, we are still feeling the love and the peace. My business has taken some really cool turns, and I am building out websites for some incredible organizations and partnering for art with others. Pete is finally feeling up to writing music, and of course it’s rap. Ha! Did you see THAT coming? We didn’t either. But let me tell you… it’s REALLY good. Think old school beats wrapped in spiritual truths and funky vibes. It’s perfection.
Because you all are amazing, I know I will be getting some emails back asking how we can be supported. And here is how you can do that… share our story. Share our love for each other and for making the world a brighter place. Be your beautiful self and shine your light so that others feel safe shining theirs. I love helping folks in creative ways (website builds, art, murals, book publishing, intuitive readings, mentoring…) so feel free to send anyone my way who may need my gifts. If I can’t help them I’ll find someone who can.
And lastly, please enjoy this post-op photo of Pete and myself, shared with his permission. Sending you all so much love and peace.
With love,
Peyton
Sans pesky gall bladder and feeling all the love!
