As of 11am, on Tuesday April the 12th...I am no longer a surgery free human.
It started as a persistent stomach ache at around 2am on Sunday morning. The pain was something I'd felt before on several different occasions, and had always turned out to be stress. I figured that it was no different, and was most likely due to a combination of worrying about finances, and my upcoming trip to KY (anytime I go somewhere alone the first time it's always stressful for me), which meant it would pass like it always has before.
When I woke up at 7:45pm on Monday, it was still there, which didn't surprise me, we get paid on Thursday's so I was expecting it to annoy me until at least then. But just to be on the safe side I decided to go to the doctor on Tuesday morning to get it checked out. My symptoms were enough to make her do a blood draw, which showed I had an elevated white count.
So they sent me to get a CT scan of my abdomen. I didn't think much about it, thinking they were most likely going to find an ulcer or something and send me on my way. But when I was lying on the table I could hear the tech's talking in the room where they read the scan. "Oh my god, don't fax it, call them and tell them to send her straight to the hospital".
At that point I still didn't know what was going on, so I headed back to the doctor's office to wait for the results. The office I visit is a clinic, so I figured I'd be sitting a while to wait for an open room. The doctor was waiting for me when I got there. I was instantly whisked into a room where I was told that my "stress related stomachache" was in fact acute appendicitis. I asked her to bring my mom into the room and tell her, because I didn't think I could do it without crying.
And so, off we went to the emergency room, where they quickly got me back, hooked up to an IV and 5mg of morphine. Around an hour and a half later, they came in to do the final prep before they actually took me back to surgery. I had to take off my jewelry, so I now know which ball unscrews on my industrial, and I lost my navel ring (no big loss, it was one of those rebellious things I did at 19, I've long since been over it.). I can now at least say that it's come a long way from what I was told to expect 20 years ago. They put me completely out before they even took me out of the prep room.
In what seemed like a few minutes, I was in the recovery room, bawling, and asking for my dad. I"m guessing I went back under because I don't have any memory whatsoever of them moving me back into the same room where my mom was. We were there for about another hour while I tried to wake up, and then I had to get redressed (very groggily), where my mom took me home.
All of my functions haven't returned yet, though I'm happy my bladder is beginning to wake up and get back to its regularly scheduled program. Now if my appetite would just catch up.
It started as a persistent stomach ache at around 2am on Sunday morning. The pain was something I'd felt before on several different occasions, and had always turned out to be stress. I figured that it was no different, and was most likely due to a combination of worrying about finances, and my upcoming trip to KY (anytime I go somewhere alone the first time it's always stressful for me), which meant it would pass like it always has before.
When I woke up at 7:45pm on Monday, it was still there, which didn't surprise me, we get paid on Thursday's so I was expecting it to annoy me until at least then. But just to be on the safe side I decided to go to the doctor on Tuesday morning to get it checked out. My symptoms were enough to make her do a blood draw, which showed I had an elevated white count.
So they sent me to get a CT scan of my abdomen. I didn't think much about it, thinking they were most likely going to find an ulcer or something and send me on my way. But when I was lying on the table I could hear the tech's talking in the room where they read the scan. "Oh my god, don't fax it, call them and tell them to send her straight to the hospital".
At that point I still didn't know what was going on, so I headed back to the doctor's office to wait for the results. The office I visit is a clinic, so I figured I'd be sitting a while to wait for an open room. The doctor was waiting for me when I got there. I was instantly whisked into a room where I was told that my "stress related stomachache" was in fact acute appendicitis. I asked her to bring my mom into the room and tell her, because I didn't think I could do it without crying.
And so, off we went to the emergency room, where they quickly got me back, hooked up to an IV and 5mg of morphine. Around an hour and a half later, they came in to do the final prep before they actually took me back to surgery. I had to take off my jewelry, so I now know which ball unscrews on my industrial, and I lost my navel ring (no big loss, it was one of those rebellious things I did at 19, I've long since been over it.). I can now at least say that it's come a long way from what I was told to expect 20 years ago. They put me completely out before they even took me out of the prep room.
In what seemed like a few minutes, I was in the recovery room, bawling, and asking for my dad. I"m guessing I went back under because I don't have any memory whatsoever of them moving me back into the same room where my mom was. We were there for about another hour while I tried to wake up, and then I had to get redressed (very groggily), where my mom took me home.
All of my functions haven't returned yet, though I'm happy my bladder is beginning to wake up and get back to its regularly scheduled program. Now if my appetite would just catch up.
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