Fun Times with a Lappy Appy: Part 1

Oh what a month June has turned out to be. First, Connor gets ill (see previous blogs), then me. I came home last Monday from work with some kind of abdominal cramps. Since Grant and Kennedy were recently ill with the stomach flu, I thought it was either that or the diet that Scott and I have been following...lots of protein shakes. By 9:30 p.m., the four Advil I took were doing nothing and I was rocking back and forth in pain. I finally had to admit that this pain was different than any other I had felt and I almost took off my husband’s head when he suggested they were menstrual cramps. (Sorry Scott! The poor guy, he was only trying to help.) Russ was kind enough to come over from next door and do a quick exam. He said because the pain was on the right side, I really needed to go to the ER and have it checked out, as I might have appendicitis. Did I mention I hate hospitals? Of course, I told him there was no way I was going to the hospital for a silly stomachache. How embarrassing would it be to get there and have them tell me I have a stomach virus? Pleeeeeaze – I am not a wuss! Russ just looked at Scott and told him that if it were Kennedy, he would make sure she went to the ER. Very effective! Of course Scott scolded me for calling Russ over and then not taking his advice and that I better get in the car. I must say, I still felt silly. ERs are for those that have life threatening conditions. Since my pain hadn’t brought me to tears, I figured I could wait. I guess my brother really does know what he is doing. The doctor and PA on staff both said it was good that I listened to him, even before the CT scan confirmed my appendix needed to come out via laproscopic appendectomy (fondly known as a lappy appy amongst healthcare professionals). Greaaaaaat...Just so you know, I really hate hospitals.

Did you know morphine is a great painkiller? Oh- and did you know that morphine will make you lose your lunch faster than anything? Why the nurse didn’t have a barf bag ready – I don’t know. Poor Scott, I thought he was going to lose his lunch too. Thank goodness that was my only bout with serious nausea, because morphine was the only thing that touched the pain. I was really loving the morphine when I found out that my surgery wasn’t going to be Tuesday a.m. like we thought. The surgeon had a full caseload already, so I would have to wait until 4 p.m. No food, no water, no nothing until after the surgery! Not even ice chips. Where am I? Some kind of medieval torture chamber? In my personal opinion, you have to be a semi-sadist to work as a healthcare professional. Sorry Mom, Russ and Andrea...but the torture that is inflicted on you in the name of medicine is ridiculous. First they force you to drink two huge bottles of water (contrast dye for the CT scan) just so you can puke them up. Then they stick you with huge needles, make you get into a huge coffin (CT scan), push more dye into your system and tell you you will feel like you are going to pee your pants and get a warm fuzzy feeling all over. (Too late, I already peed my pants when I was puking earlier. Oh the joys of being a middle-aged woman!) Not to mention they deny you any food and water until after your surgery. Once you are in your hospital room they have you feeling pretty good. But wait! That's all just a tease because they leave your room lights on all night long and keep you awake by vacuuming the hallway at 3 a.m. (I have to explain, that I could have called the nurse to turn off my lights and close my door, but I was so dopey, it never occurred to me. Duh!) Oh, and once you are in surgery who knows what cruel jokes they are playing on you. I mean really! I woke up with a very strange bikini wax, two holes in my gut and another huge hole in my belly button. To make things even worse, they filled me so full of gas I looked like I was in my third trimester. Scott so kindly asked "that is going to go away, isn't it?" Husbands always know just the right things to say.

Here is a really neat before and after picture the doc took while he was in my gut and just before he scored a record 100,000 points playing Lappy Asteroids. I know you all wanted to see my colon. Woo Hoo!
Did I mention that I hadn't had anything to eat or drink in eons? Would they let me eat or drink anything after surgery? No way...only ice chips. After about three hours I made Scott smuggle me in a Diet Coke. Aahh! Nothing tasted so sweet. The nurse finally relented and said that I could have yummy sugar-free orange jello or a delicious cup of canned chicken broth (I think she was afraid my third trimester tummy wasn't going away either). Mmmm, Mmmm! The next day I had to beg them to give me oatmeal for breakfast. Talk about gruel! I was better off sticking with the jello. Okay, okay. It really wasn’t that bad, but come on! By the way, would it be terribly irresponsible if I skip my follow up appointment with the surgeon?