Appendicitis

      I have to tell you that appendicitis sucks. It's a surprise that hits you in the gut, (literally), and it's a pain in the ass to recover from. I guess for me it has to do with the fact that A- I have a family that I cannot take care of, and, B- the pain is excruciating and annoying as hell. Also, it can make you a bit bitchy..... (not proud of this one...). If you've had a laparoscopic procedure to remove said annoying organ. you should looks really gross.... even at the hospital they said that I would ooze. How nasty is that to hear that you would ooze? You usually hear that about evil witches who are melting from water...., (yes I did make a reference to Wizard of Oz, how could you not throw a shout-out to a classic when given the chance). Anyway I know that I'm going on a bit of a tangent on how recovery is going, but I should really talk about how this all began.....

     Well, Saturday night I began to experience a bit of a stomach ache. I thought nothing of it. When relaxing the pain went away, and it felt ordinary. That changed around 4 am Sunday morning when I woke up with the most excruciating pain and immediately went to the bathroom, and on my way I grabbed a shopping bag, (based on a hunch). As I sat down the sudden urge to throw up became rather imminent so I grabbed the bag and stuck it in my face and then it happened. It was awful. Once I finished, I thought I would be good, so I went back to bed. No such luck. For next hour and a half I would be going between my bed, couch and bathroom trying to get comfortable and throwing up what honestly felt like acid, (I've thrown up quite a bit in my life so I would know something like this... yucky I know). Finally around 6 am I couldn't take it anymore and woke my husband up letting him know the situation. he seemed a bit flustered but we were both tired so I did't blame him. Frankly I was trying not to die, (I know dramatic, but the pain was the most awful thing I ever felt).

      At some point I told him that I needed to go to the hospital. I don't know why I said hospital, but I just had the urge that I had to go there. So after some talking he called Hatzolah and they came over after a few minutes. I in the meantime went to the couch and was literally clutching my stomach and crying in pain. I never felt so helpless. They came and felt my pain which was the center circle of my stomach and informed me that this is unusual so I should go to the hospital. My husband called my Father-in-law to look after our kids so that he could look after me. Literally after the call to my father-in-law ended I ran to the bathroom to hurl yet again... 4 freaking times already. I was so done. When my father-in-law came, my hubby took me to the emergency room. Now I would like to add that I live in Canada. While everything is covered with Medicare, the staff at hospitals are awesome, they are truly awesome, but the only way you will be seen right away is if you passed out on the floor and do not wake up right away. You could be clutching your stomach in pain and they will put you as a high priority, but you still have to wait your turn. Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy with them. This is just a cynical view on things, because honestly that was what was going on in my head at the moment. I was sick, pissed at the world and just overall tired and wanted to sleep.

     At some point one nurse took my vitals and asked for my symptoms. I even asked for some pain meds, and while she seemed somewhat sympathetic when she told me that she couldn't do that until I was registered. Finally after waiting some time, and a mistake when I thought I was called, I was finally called to register and sent to the trauma area. There they took some blood and sat me down on a pretty comfy recliner. They ran a couple of tests and proceeded to help alleviate the pain that I had, i.e. the good stuff. Then it was just a matter of waiting until they figured out which test to run next, and just the regular waiting game you have when you are not an extreme emergency patient. A couple of hours in, I still could not ingest any food or drink of any kind. Around 12 am Sunday, they informed me that I would be having a CAT scan and that I had to drink three cups of liquid. After I slowly downed the first one, it decided to come right back up... not fun. I informed the nurse who told me to at least try and keep one down and hope that that would be enough. Luckily for me it was.

     When we were done with the scan, I went back to rest. I was awoken from a drug induced nap shortly after, and was informed that I had an inflamed appendix that had to come out. Apparently, an inflamed appendix can be treated with medication but it never goes away.. (essentially you would be on a repeat cycle until you couldn't be). So essentially they recommend removal so that the patient does not have to go through the medication anxiety.

       They had the general surgeon come down to explain what would happen. She explained the kind of surgery that I would have, (laparoscopic, essentially they cut small holes into my belly and suck out my appendix... to put it bluntly), and my estimated recovery rate. They then proceeded to tell me that I would have to wait a little due to other emergencies that took precedence. I then informed her in no uncertain terms that as long as it didn't burst, (which she informed me that I was way off from that happening), and that I was medicated to not feel the pain, I was good for the wait. She chuckled and went about her merry way.

     Finally after quite a few hours of trying to figure out when I would go into surgery, they came to inform me that would happen around 5 am. I was escorted to the surgery room on a gurney, and then moved to the operating table. They inserted the anesthesia into my IV and within minutes I was out like a light. When I came to I was in the recovery room and my husband was present as soon as he was able. After catching my breathe, I was discharged and we went to my in-laws. Now here is where my awesome hubby and his awesome family came in.

      We stayed over for the night, and I was not allowed to lift a finger. Even when we went home, I was out of commission for close to a week. My mother-in-law made supper one night when I could not, but my husband took care of me and the kids. He did the work of two people for the entire week. He took care of the kids, myself and went to work. I was basically bedridden and sick for the whole week. Between the hot and cold flashes, followed by the horrible nausea and no appetite, it was actually quite nice to get back to a little version of normal.

    This experience has taught me a few things:
- Be thankful for what you have. When you are out of commission after you have a family, you actually find yourself craving the normalcy of your crazy routine.
- Be thankful to your spouse. My husband was a superhero and superstar the entire week and I will always remember this when I even attempt to think of taking him for granted.
- Always trust your gut. I knew that I needed the hospital for this pain and I was not wrong about it.

All in all, I am still recovering but I am happy to report that I am almost up to snuff. Now it's just a matter of getting healthy.....