(WARNING: This post contains several items that are considered to be TMI (Too Much Information), I've tagged those items, so skip ahead if you're squeemish.)
I walked back to work with my team lead, Peter Pan (a.k.a Matt). The walk back wasn't nearly as great as the walk out, despite the excellent conversation, something was amiss. I thought I had a case of bad gas, and told Brion later in the day that the wonderful meal wasn't sitting well at all.
Two days later, I was still feeling the pain, but the twinge had increased to more of a stabbing and I was starting to see a bulge in my 6-pack... something far more nefarious than mall-food gas was setting my insides asunder.
Friday morning I woke up with the feeling that something wasn't right. I couldn't put my finger on it. It didn't feel different than any other morning, and I (warning, TMI) passed a fair amount of gas during my morning yoga routine (still totally normal). I called in sick to work and raced down to my family doctor. I say raced, because I had thought walk-in hours were 9-10:30, but they were really 8-9:30... the time was currently 9am, and I was 30 minutes away in Webster.
Arriving at 9:29 precisely, I got in to see Dr. Maskiell and told him about my Sbarro experience and the subsequent pain and bulging. (By the way, I would like to note, Sbarro made no contribution to my state of affairs and I will be eating there again next week... soooo good!!)
Dr. Maskiell poked and prodded as doctors do, landing on a very, VERY tender point. Tender enough that it made me yelp and tears sprang forth of their own accord. "Yeah, I need you to go to highland's ER. I need you to get a CT scan for appendicitis," he said.
I headed to the checkout window with the paperwork. The secretary took one look and said, "Oh! You're headed to emergency!? Whenever you come it's something big. Good luck!!" (I have a reputation at this office. Whenever I go in, something drastic has happened. My last three incidents had me: 1. On crutches for a month with a high probability of lowered mobility for years, 2. pass out on the floor of the office on my way to check out (warning TMI) from rectal bleeding (EWWWW), and 3. covered in a case of systemic poison ivy, which is as close to hell on earth as I've come.)
With a hop, skip and a jump (actually closer to a labored waddle, grunt and a thump) I was back in my car and off to Highland's ER. I got in with no waiting. They ran a variety of tests on me which all came back good... really good.... good enough for one of the nurses to comment, "Whoa, you are one healthy dude." The resident commented that the pain was probably bad gas and because everything came back clean, he didn't expect to see anything in the CT scan, but still wanted me to get it. Better safe than sorry.
Throughout the day, I received many comments on my positive attitude. I took a nap during the first bit of downtime, and chatted with the nurses and other patients near me the rest of the time. With the exceptions of the IV, starving from having not eaten since the night before, and the odd hospital stink, I was having a grand old time. This comes in to play later.
My turn finally came at 1:30 in the afternoon (I'd bee at the hospital since 11am), and after downing a litre of contrast solution, I was off to the CT room. I entered and the nurse asked, "Did they tell you that we need to give you rectal contrast?" I laughed. The nurse smiled, but came back with, "No, I'm actually serious. :(" (fast forward) so filled with contrast from the top and bottom, I started in on the bed. They hooked up an IV contrast as well. When the tech told me the list of side effects, I laughed again, but he was serious too: "Hot flashes, a metalic taste on the tongue, a burning smell..." And when the IV contrast shot in, I got to experience these firsthand... It was weird, but not the least bit unpleasant.
(EDIT: There was originally a bit here about my time in the bathroom after the CT scan, but it's pretty much two paragraphs of quite disturbing, TMI content.)
So back in my ER room, the results came back and everyone started scurrying. It was appendicitis and it was BAD. Shelly and Sarah (sweetest nurses ever) came in and gave me the news that I was headed for surgery. All of the nurses were shocked. They had assumed from my grand attitude that I couldn't possibly be experiencing the pain associated with my condition. NOTE: It's the whole dancer and extreme sports thing. I'm almost always in pain from something or other, so my tolerance is pretty ridiculous. Also note, I bring up the tiniest scratch in pretty much the same way I bring up a deep tissue gouge. (I have a high tolerance, but I am also quite sensitive, leading to my edge in sports and thing like juggling.)
Less than an hour later I was in surgery. I came out with a big smile and two thumbs up, much to the delight of the nurses in the OR holding room. I couldn't talk or pee owing to (warning TMI) a full catheter up my woohoo into my bladder, and the respirator tube that was shoved down my throat, but aside from that, I was still doing well.
It took 6 hours to finally start peeing, and when I did, I had to go every 3-5 minutes (irritated bladder). Two hours later, after a full meal, and about a mile of pacing around the hospital to try to work out the carbon gas they had injected into my abdomen (turning me into a human balloon for the operation), I was free to go. The problem was, my bladder didn't agree with leaving. I asked for one of those urine buckets for the trip, and the hospital staff was quick to oblige. Bucket in hand, clothes back on, I set off for the car. I barely made it. It took 2 pee stops to reach the 24-hour CVS (a mere 3 miles away). I had to wait 30 minutes for my Vicodin script to be filled (another 4 pee stops), then it was off to home (20 minutes and 3 pee stops).
We got home at 2am, readied ourselves for bed, then passed out for a great night's sleep. Upon arising this morning, I find I still can't talk right, and using my abs is excrutiating, but all-in-all, I'm none the worse for wear. I'll be taking it easy for the next few days. I'd love to hear from you on Facebook or via Email if you get the chance. :)
Thanks for all the "get well" txts, twitters & emails so far! I love you guys!!
P.S. Here's some more info on what went down: http://www.umm.edu/general_surgery/lap_appendectomy.htm
What is a laparoscopic appendectomy?
The laparoscopic (minimally invasive) surgical technique involves making several tiny cuts in the abdomen and inserting a miniature camera and surgical instruments. As many as three or four incisions are made. The surgeon then removes the appendix with the instruments, so there is usually no need to make a large incision in the abdomen. The camera projects a magnified image of the area onto a television monitor which helps guide the surgeons as they remove the appendix.
