I woke up Friday morning with a little stomach cramping, but nothing too bad – figured it was just something I ate. I went through my workday with the same uncomfortable feeling, and the occasional bit of stabbing pain. A couple of times throughout the day I entertained the idea of a trip to the ER, but blew it off as an overreaction.
Friday evening I took The Littlest Briston for a walk, but didn’t get more than a hundred yards before the pain got to be too much. Ok, maybe a trip to the ER is in order. I took TLB to her grandparents place and asked them if they could keep an eye on her while I went to the hospital.
Checked in about 8:00 Friday night, and 12 hours later I was on the opertating table getting my inflamed appendix removed.
I spent the next 24+ hours in a bit of a stupor - sleeping 90 minutes, awake 30 minutes, repeat for a full day. Still, I was discharged early Sunday and now a day later I could hardly tell you I had anything done. I have these three incisions on my belly as a reminder, but no real pain, and even though I’m not pushing myself, I don’t have any of the post-op soreness that I understand will often come with this type of situation.
So, woohoo…I can check “have emergency surgery” off of my list of things to expierience in life, and I suppose this is about the best way I could hope to cross this one off…
Hee hee. There used to be a poster called “The Final Exam”. The one for med school was “under your chair there is a box that contains a razor blade, three cotton balls and a fifth of whiskey. Remove your own appendix. Do not suture until a TA has checked your work.”
My mom had this happen to her a couple years back. She whined a lot about it at the time (she tends hypochondriac), but in retrospect has commented that recovery was much easier than she expected. Best of luck to you
Here’s one of those “It could always be worse” stories to make you feel better.
I was working in a hotel in Marathon, in the Florida Keys. A couple from England checks in for a week. They were telling me how excited they were to be here and how they looked forward to the sun and fun. It was February. I was working the overnight shift and they checked in before midnight.
Around 2am the husband calls and says his wife is really sick. He doesn’t want an ambulance so I give him directions to Fisherman’s Hospital a few miles away. Turns out his wife has gall bladder problems and has to get it removed. She spends the entire week in the hospital.
So you see, you could’ve been saving for a vacation in the sun and traveled from Europe to North America just to spend two hours in your hotel before winding up your vacation in the hospital
