More adventures in medicine

I had a bronchoscopy on May 8, in the morning. This is the email I sent on May 9 to various friends and relatives who had asked to be kept current...

I had my bronchoscopy yesterday morning. As predicted, don't remember anything of the actual procedure, although I wasn't put under, merely "sedated". I remember gargling some bitter stuff, then the doctor putting a curved syringe down my throat to freeze the vocal chords, then nothing until I was lucid again. Apparently I had a discussion with Dr Allen, but I don't remember that. I felt fine, but they kept me for another hour, making sure my oxygen levels and heart were fine.
Got home, had a much-needed coffee and some lunch, then started to feel tired, so I lay down. Got cold, so I covered up. Got really cold, and Sandy pointed out that the sheet Dr Allen had provided said if this happened to go straight to emergency.
So I did that; they triaged me to the head of the line, I was seen by a nurse, put on a saline drip, and into a cubicle. Leanne, who was in seeing a patient, came by. (They all love her in emerg!)
By the time the bag was empty, I was feeling much better, so the fact that I didn't see a doctor until after their shift change didn't matter. When I did see him, J was there on his way home from work. The Emergency doctor took extensive notes, did some tests, ordered an X-ray and a bunch of blood work, then phoned Dr Allen. They decided I should be hooked up to oxygen and stay overnight.
This morning I saw, in order: Leanne, who brought me a thermos of coffee, a sheaf of drawings, and some muffins before attending to her patient in the other bed; Robin, who brought me a Globe and more coffee; Dr Allen, who discussed the procedure (according to him, there's so much mucus in my lungs he had to clear the probe three times!), unhooked my oxygen, gave me a prescription for another antibiotic, and said he'd see me in a week when the first results are in; Leanne, between patients; Dr de Bruin, my GP, doing rounds, who was surprised to find me there, and who finally got me my discharge from the hospital...
So I'm home. It's a zone house (it being Election Day) but I'm not allowed to drive and coughing more than would make me useful on the phone.
So I'm totally redundant, but very pleased to be home. 

May 11, 1968. Trail, BC.

Sandy’s dad had a very fancy new Pentax SLR camera, so he assured my dad, who didn’t, that he could be counted on to take the photos.

Unfortunately, although Sandy’s dad took many, none turned out: he had – it being a new camera, and unfamiliar to him – loaded the film incorrectly, so that it didn’t advance.

This photo was taken either on the day by someone else, or some months later when San and I returned to Trail.

The wedding was held in the living room, and conducted by the United Church minister. Besides the principals, in attendance were: Sandy’s parents, Fred (who was still in high school) and my parents. Possibly a couple of my siblings. Also several neighbours. Our memories are distinctly hazy on this point.

The ceremony must have gone well, because we were duly married.

The only other really memorable thing I remember was that the fireplace had been crammed with paper. Sandy’s dad asked me to put a match to it, so I did; the house immediately filled with smoke and fly-ash. He had forgotten to warn me that the damper would be closed, and I had forgotten to check.

Luckily for me, he took the brunt of Sandy’s mom’s fury, and the room had been cleaned and aired by the time the ceremony happened.

Note after posting on Facebook and acquiring some more information: apparently Fred took the photo, and Sandy's Great Aunt (in every way!) Neva and her Grandfather Robinson from Saskatoon were also in attendance.