Oh well, I wasn't really using it anyway
October 23, 2006 :: 2:49 p.m.

I woke up in the middle of the night on Sunday 10/15 with a terrible stomach ache. It hadn’t been there when I went to bed at 2am, but when I woke up at 4:00 I was doubled over from it. I tried watching tv and drinking chamomile tea, thinking it was just something I ate, to no avail. Around 7:30 or 8:00 I woke Brian up complaining about the pain. At first he just said “I’m sorry it hurts” but after a while, he realized (probably better than I did) that Something Was Wrong.

After a hot shower which only temporarily helped the pain, I let Brian convince me to go to Urgent Care. I wasn’t worried until he said “we should go just to rule out anything serious, like appendicitis.” Well that freaked me the fuck out. I was still sure it wasn’t anything serious, but I figured I might be able to get some meds to help, so I went along.

We were at a blissfully un-crowded Urgent Care by 9:30, and within half an hour I saw the doc. After some prodding and some questions, she looked at me matter-of-factly and said “I think you have acute appendicitis. It’s cool, you’ll just go to the hospital, they’ll take it out and you’ll be home by 8:00.” This was a little too much for me to wrap my head around. The pain that had woken me up had actually gone away, and all that remained was a little soreness on my right side. I was sure she was wrong, but the X-rays didn’t lie, and I was sent down the street to Methodist Hospital for a CAT scan. The scan confirmed the diagnosis and I was in a hospital room and gown by 3:00.

I had never had surgery or anesthesia before. I had never been in a hospital room. The only hospital experience I had was two times in the ER for a migraine, both of which were only a few hours long. So I was freaked. I cried on Brian’s shoulder. I cried to the nurse. I was a big fat crybaby. But I was so scared. I know way too much about hospital errors and horror stories from my job, so I begged Brian to find a Sharpee so I could label the place they were supposed to cut, and write “DON’T CUT HERE” on all the other body parts.

By the time I was being wheeled down to pre-op, it was around 5:00. I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink all day, and no coffee, so I had a horrendous headache. I looked forward to the anesthesia just because it would be a relief from the pain. The delightful nurse anesthetist, Mark, did an impeccable job inserting the IV into the back of my left hand (not in the elbow, which is more limiting in terms of mobility but easier to do). Then he squeezed in some delightful kind of tranquilizer and I started to feel better. I almost stopped worrying about having the wrong part operated on, until the anesthesiologist (different guy from Mark) came in and said the experience would be just like my knee surgery. WHAT KNEE SURGERY?!!? Holy shit, these people think I’m someone else? They’re going to carve out an important organ! He assured me it would be an appendectomy, no matter if I was a knee-surgery person or not.

I remember being wheeled into the OR and being moved onto the operating table. At that point it all goes fuzzy until I woke up in recovery (about 90 minutes later, I think). I was shivering violently, but had no pain or discomfort. Even the headache was gone. The poor guy in the bed next to me was making horrible sounds and I think he woke up from the anesthesia in a full-blown panic attack, poor guy. Made me feel lucky that all I had was the chills.

They wheeled me back up to my room, where Brian and my parents were waiting. Brian told me he was surprised how alert I was. I really did feel pretty good. My parents babysat me while Brian went home for a change of clothes and a toothbrush. He got back around 10:00 pm, my parents went home and we settled in for the night.

There was no one else in my hospital room, so the nurse brought Brian a recliner and some blankets, and he slept right next to me, even though I told him I wouldn’t mind if he went home. He said there was no way he was leaving me, thereby earning about thirty million Husband Points.

Throughout the night, the nurse came in and checked my vitals and re-upped my pain meds (hello morphine, my new friend). When I woke up, I was still feeling pretty good. I managed to get up with some help, walk as far as the bathroom and back, and was feeling pretty damn proud of myself. By around 11:00 I was sitting in a chair reading a magazine, and they figured I could go home. By 12:30 I was in the car, on the way home, where I realized how much I would miss my new friend morphine.

By the time I was at home and back in bed, I was really sore and almost missing the hospital. Brian fluffed the pillows and tucked me in, and fed me a percocet, which helped a bit. The rest of that day is kind of fuzzy to me. Brian stayed home from work all day and took care of me, and I got lots of nice calls and flowers from people, but I was pretty out of it. Since then, each day has been better than the last, and by Friday I was back at work part time. I did have to miss a really awesome work opportunity, which really bummed me out (more tears), and the timing isn’t ideal, what with the election just days away, but it could have been a lot worse. I’m grateful for the exceptional care I got at the hospital and from Brian, family and friends.

As of today, I still can’t wear pants with a waistband. Ouch.