I Certainly Didn't Expect That
Aug. 23rd, 2004 05:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
davidschrothBwa-ha-ha-ha! Nobody ever expects the Attack of Acute Appendicitis!!!
Oops. Wrong bit.
Previously (August 4), I journaled this bit:
And something I ate last night is disagreeing emphatically with my GI tract. It's made the day somewhat uncomfortable.
Somewhat later (August 16), there was this follow-up:
I scheduled an appointment with a physician on Wednesday afternoon.
It's been almost two weeks, and I still feel crappy.
Note the absence of the word pain in any of the above postings. It will be prominently absent from here on out, as well.
So I get home, and I'm still feeling crappy, so I lie down. And![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
laurafish comes in, notices that I appear to be a bit warm, and takes my temperature - over 100 degrees Fondly Fahrenheit. This is Not Good. It's even more Not Good when one considers that I habitually run cool - less than 98.
So, it's decided that we'll take me to the urgent care facility in the wilds of Burnsville. We leave the handyman the key to the porch door, and head off. Get there well before closing. Which is good, as they stop accepting new patients a half-hour before closing.
I finally see the physician. He asks questions, pokes, prods, cogitates. Diagnosis - if it weren't for the two week duration, and the lack of pain, appendicitis would be the obvious call. It might be diverticulitis. There's a faint - very faint - chance that it could be a kidney stone. What's needed, and soon, to resolve the question is a CT scan. I have two choices - I could go to the emergency room of the hospital across the street, or I could go to the emergency room of the hospital way across town. We both know that my health insurance provider will be much happier if I go to the hospital across town, so that's what's decided.
So Laura Jean bundles me into the car, and we're off to the wilds of St. Louis Park. Apparently one of Minnesota's two seasons has spread to the private sector - the road to the emergency room is under construction, and barred to all but emergency room traffic. We take the detour around to the parking lot, and start wandering the halls trying to find the emergency room. In due course, all is revealed, and I'm checked in to the emergency room.
We all agree that a CT scan would be just the ticket (there was some talk of bypassing the scan and heading right into surgery - again, the two weeks of discomfort sans pain). So I'm given a glass of "apple juice" that supposedly contains some kind of contrast agent to drink. Which I do. It is the vilest tasting apple juice it has ever been my misfortune to drink. Then we sit around for an hour, waiting for the apple juice to make its way to somewhere useful, and I'm given another glass of vile-tasting apple juice. And then it's off to be scanned. Just before the scan, I get an injection of yet another contrast agent. I'm warned that this is likely to leave a metallic taste in my mouth, and a warm glow on my body. And indeed, my mouth goes metallic, and my scrotum starts feeling very warm. Not entirely what I expected, but within the bounds of what I was told. And then back to the room, and wait for results.
It is, indeed, appendicitis.
So I'm soon off to surgery pre-op. I have enough presence of mind when removing my clothing to think to give Laura Jean my watch, and keys, and wallet, and such not. One of the gentlemen prepping me comes up with a pair of medium white thigh-high stockings, which he proceeds to attempt to put on me. When, after much struggle, the first leg is largely done, the anesthesiologist idly wonders if perhaps a larger size might have been more appropriate.
"How tall are you?"
"Six one and change"
"Oops. Too late now".
So the other leg is enstockinged, and then yet more apparatus is brought out. Some kind of pneumatically driven leggings, one for each leg. I'm strapped in, and wheeled into the operating theater. At some point I lose consciousness, and when I regain consciousness I'm encased in yet more restraints, and another group of people I've never met before are manipulating them.
And then I'm wheeled up to the East wing, Room 488, bed 2. I more or less move myself from the gurney to the bed. I'm having saline/glucose solution, some kind of antibiotics, and some Vitamin M being dripped into my veins. The pneumatic leggings are still attached, and still doing their thing. Feels kind of nice, actually.
I don't remember too much more after that, at least not for a while. At some point a dominatrix posing as a nurse gets me out of bed, onto my feet, and wandering the corridors (the nurse assured that the more I walked, the quicker I'd get out of the hospital. I'm pretty sure she was right).
At some point in the morning I managed to call my boss, and informed her that I would be out sick for the rest of the week. She didn't totally believe me - she agreed that I'd be out sick for the rest of the week, but she didn't think I'd be back to work on Monday).
And the days quickly fall into a routine that has me wandering the halls at various times of the day. Those times were guaranteed to include 1:00 am and 4:00am - I'd always do a walk/bathroom visit before attempting to go to sleep, and when they woke me up at 4:00 to check my vitals, it just seemed to make sense to go walkies/bathroom break at the same time.
I found reading novels somewhere between difficult and impossible. I could handle the newspaper, and short stories were no problem, but anything longer was a waste of effort.
Television wasn't much of an option - I don't watch much television during normal times, and little that was available was of interest. Especially since watching television meant that I had to endure a seemingly endless barrage of ads from the smirking chimp or his surrogates. The exception was the Olympics - I had the good sense to end up in the hospital during the Olympic Games. Which meant that I did get to see things that I found interesting (volleyball, beach volleyball, some of the track and field events) that I would have otherwise missed.
The bright spot, unsurprisingly, was visits from my friends.
90_percent_sure and kalikanzeros showed up Tuesday night (I think - I was still pretty out of it then). And they brought gifts - a card that had been imaginatively modified to cause me to laugh when I shouldn't, a copy of the National Enquirer, a copy of a paperback that I'm still afraid to open, a bottle of Diet Coke (that they knew very well I'd be unable to touch while I was in hospital), a Sippy Cup (to hide the Diet Coke in, or so they said), and an electronic Yahtzee game. And the greatest gift of all - their presence. And we talked, and laughed, and eventually they left.
lsanderson came by for the first of several visits. He, too, came bearing a gift - a box of sinful chocolates (none of which I could touch while I was in hospital). I suppose I should have offered them to other guests throughout the week. I blame the effects of Vitamin M on my memory for my failure to do so.
Laura was a constant, always showing up, even with all the other insanity going on (Here's a hint, fellow campers. It is not a good life strategy to schedule acute appendicitis at the same time one is trying to make a divorce happen, sell one's current house, buy one's future house, get ready for back-to-back trips (Boston and France), and patch together the company's next product so they'll have something to sell (and thus continue to pay one's salary, so that one can pay for the house, and trips, and what-not).
A (now forcibly retired) friend from work and his wife, former volleyball teammates, showed up on Friday, and gifted me with a copy of Michael Moore's last book.
And on Saturday, looking like a billion bucks, who should show up butminnehahaK and dreamshark. They were bearing a glass of freshly picked and arranged flowers, and their very welcome selves. Much hilarity ensued (Vitamin M? Who knows). lsanderson showed up about an hour after they did, and stayed a bit after they left.
I was on the no-food diet from Tuesday through Thursday. Friday morning I was allowed to eat clear foods. The first meal was green jello, some fruit juice, and decaff coffee. I have never had such delicious jello before. I was put on solid food starting with lunch on Saturday.
On Saturday, the Doctor said that if I passed my next blood test, I'd be sent home. So I was mildly concerned Sunday at 1:00 am when the nurse pointed out that the Doctor had canceled the Sunday morning blood test, and scheduled one for Saturday morning. She thought it was most likely a user interface problem, but was loath to call the Doctor at 1:00 am to verify this. A sentiment I heartily agreed with. So he showed up Sunday morning, appeared mildly annoyed that there were no test results to inspect, and decided to send me home. I proceeded to bounce off the walls for the next several hours. Laura Jean showed up after the open house had started, and out the door we went. Eventually. There was this small matter of picking up medication, and where was my wallet with my insurance card, etc.
Since Laura Jean hadn't eaten, we drove over to the nearest Dairy Queen, and got her fed. And then we went home.
And today I'm at work, as t\h\r\e\a\t\e\n\e\d\promised. Not all is well in the world. One of my co-workers, slightly older than I am (57), had gone into the hospital with colitis several weeks back. His colon perforated, and he had emergency surgery, on the 12th or 13th. From surgery, he went into ICU, where he stayed until he died on August 18. Today was his funeral.
So I'm feeling lucky. Lucky to have the wonderful friends I have, lucky to have the wonderful woman I love, and lucky to live in the time I live in.
I'm told that a wall of tissue had built up around my appendix. The surgeons performed laparoscopic surgery to remove the appendix. When they got in, they found that the appendix was perforated. I understand that standard action at this point would be to convert to the standard surgery, which the surgeons didn't do. Even though, as they put it, it looked like a bomb had gone off in my abdomen, they removed it and cleaned up.
I have no doubt that if this had happened at an earlier time in my life, in much the same way, that I likely would not have survived. The technology would not have been up to the task.
Oops. Wrong bit.
Previously (August 4), I journaled this bit:
And something I ate last night is disagreeing emphatically with my GI tract. It's made the day somewhat uncomfortable.
Somewhat later (August 16), there was this follow-up:
I scheduled an appointment with a physician on Wednesday afternoon.
It's been almost two weeks, and I still feel crappy.
Note the absence of the word pain in any of the above postings. It will be prominently absent from here on out, as well.
So I get home, and I'm still feeling crappy, so I lie down. And
laurafish comes in, notices that I appear to be a bit warm, and takes my temperature - over 100 degrees Fondly Fahrenheit. This is Not Good. It's even more Not Good when one considers that I habitually run cool - less than 98.So, it's decided that we'll take me to the urgent care facility in the wilds of Burnsville. We leave the handyman the key to the porch door, and head off. Get there well before closing. Which is good, as they stop accepting new patients a half-hour before closing.
I finally see the physician. He asks questions, pokes, prods, cogitates. Diagnosis - if it weren't for the two week duration, and the lack of pain, appendicitis would be the obvious call. It might be diverticulitis. There's a faint - very faint - chance that it could be a kidney stone. What's needed, and soon, to resolve the question is a CT scan. I have two choices - I could go to the emergency room of the hospital across the street, or I could go to the emergency room of the hospital way across town. We both know that my health insurance provider will be much happier if I go to the hospital across town, so that's what's decided.
So Laura Jean bundles me into the car, and we're off to the wilds of St. Louis Park. Apparently one of Minnesota's two seasons has spread to the private sector - the road to the emergency room is under construction, and barred to all but emergency room traffic. We take the detour around to the parking lot, and start wandering the halls trying to find the emergency room. In due course, all is revealed, and I'm checked in to the emergency room.
We all agree that a CT scan would be just the ticket (there was some talk of bypassing the scan and heading right into surgery - again, the two weeks of discomfort sans pain). So I'm given a glass of "apple juice" that supposedly contains some kind of contrast agent to drink. Which I do. It is the vilest tasting apple juice it has ever been my misfortune to drink. Then we sit around for an hour, waiting for the apple juice to make its way to somewhere useful, and I'm given another glass of vile-tasting apple juice. And then it's off to be scanned. Just before the scan, I get an injection of yet another contrast agent. I'm warned that this is likely to leave a metallic taste in my mouth, and a warm glow on my body. And indeed, my mouth goes metallic, and my scrotum starts feeling very warm. Not entirely what I expected, but within the bounds of what I was told. And then back to the room, and wait for results.
It is, indeed, appendicitis.
So I'm soon off to surgery pre-op. I have enough presence of mind when removing my clothing to think to give Laura Jean my watch, and keys, and wallet, and such not. One of the gentlemen prepping me comes up with a pair of medium white thigh-high stockings, which he proceeds to attempt to put on me. When, after much struggle, the first leg is largely done, the anesthesiologist idly wonders if perhaps a larger size might have been more appropriate.
"How tall are you?"
"Six one and change"
"Oops. Too late now".
So the other leg is enstockinged, and then yet more apparatus is brought out. Some kind of pneumatically driven leggings, one for each leg. I'm strapped in, and wheeled into the operating theater. At some point I lose consciousness, and when I regain consciousness I'm encased in yet more restraints, and another group of people I've never met before are manipulating them.
And then I'm wheeled up to the East wing, Room 488, bed 2. I more or less move myself from the gurney to the bed. I'm having saline/glucose solution, some kind of antibiotics, and some Vitamin M being dripped into my veins. The pneumatic leggings are still attached, and still doing their thing. Feels kind of nice, actually.
I don't remember too much more after that, at least not for a while. At some point a dominatrix posing as a nurse gets me out of bed, onto my feet, and wandering the corridors (the nurse assured that the more I walked, the quicker I'd get out of the hospital. I'm pretty sure she was right).
At some point in the morning I managed to call my boss, and informed her that I would be out sick for the rest of the week. She didn't totally believe me - she agreed that I'd be out sick for the rest of the week, but she didn't think I'd be back to work on Monday).
And the days quickly fall into a routine that has me wandering the halls at various times of the day. Those times were guaranteed to include 1:00 am and 4:00am - I'd always do a walk/bathroom visit before attempting to go to sleep, and when they woke me up at 4:00 to check my vitals, it just seemed to make sense to go walkies/bathroom break at the same time.
I found reading novels somewhere between difficult and impossible. I could handle the newspaper, and short stories were no problem, but anything longer was a waste of effort.
Television wasn't much of an option - I don't watch much television during normal times, and little that was available was of interest. Especially since watching television meant that I had to endure a seemingly endless barrage of ads from the smirking chimp or his surrogates. The exception was the Olympics - I had the good sense to end up in the hospital during the Olympic Games. Which meant that I did get to see things that I found interesting (volleyball, beach volleyball, some of the track and field events) that I would have otherwise missed.
The bright spot, unsurprisingly, was visits from my friends.
90_percent_sure and kalikanzeros showed up Tuesday night (I think - I was still pretty out of it then). And they brought gifts - a card that had been imaginatively modified to cause me to laugh when I shouldn't, a copy of the National Enquirer, a copy of a paperback that I'm still afraid to open, a bottle of Diet Coke (that they knew very well I'd be unable to touch while I was in hospital), a Sippy Cup (to hide the Diet Coke in, or so they said), and an electronic Yahtzee game. And the greatest gift of all - their presence. And we talked, and laughed, and eventually they left.lsanderson came by for the first of several visits. He, too, came bearing a gift - a box of sinful chocolates (none of which I could touch while I was in hospital). I suppose I should have offered them to other guests throughout the week. I blame the effects of Vitamin M on my memory for my failure to do so.Laura was a constant, always showing up, even with all the other insanity going on (Here's a hint, fellow campers. It is not a good life strategy to schedule acute appendicitis at the same time one is trying to make a divorce happen, sell one's current house, buy one's future house, get ready for back-to-back trips (Boston and France), and patch together the company's next product so they'll have something to sell (and thus continue to pay one's salary, so that one can pay for the house, and trips, and what-not).
A (now forcibly retired) friend from work and his wife, former volleyball teammates, showed up on Friday, and gifted me with a copy of Michael Moore's last book.
And on Saturday, looking like a billion bucks, who should show up but
minnehahaK and dreamshark. They were bearing a glass of freshly picked and arranged flowers, and their very welcome selves. Much hilarity ensued (Vitamin M? Who knows). lsanderson showed up about an hour after they did, and stayed a bit after they left.I was on the no-food diet from Tuesday through Thursday. Friday morning I was allowed to eat clear foods. The first meal was green jello, some fruit juice, and decaff coffee. I have never had such delicious jello before. I was put on solid food starting with lunch on Saturday.
On Saturday, the Doctor said that if I passed my next blood test, I'd be sent home. So I was mildly concerned Sunday at 1:00 am when the nurse pointed out that the Doctor had canceled the Sunday morning blood test, and scheduled one for Saturday morning. She thought it was most likely a user interface problem, but was loath to call the Doctor at 1:00 am to verify this. A sentiment I heartily agreed with. So he showed up Sunday morning, appeared mildly annoyed that there were no test results to inspect, and decided to send me home. I proceeded to bounce off the walls for the next several hours. Laura Jean showed up after the open house had started, and out the door we went. Eventually. There was this small matter of picking up medication, and where was my wallet with my insurance card, etc.
Since Laura Jean hadn't eaten, we drove over to the nearest Dairy Queen, and got her fed. And then we went home.
And today I'm at work, as t\h\r\e\a\t\e\n\e\d\promised. Not all is well in the world. One of my co-workers, slightly older than I am (57), had gone into the hospital with colitis several weeks back. His colon perforated, and he had emergency surgery, on the 12th or 13th. From surgery, he went into ICU, where he stayed until he died on August 18. Today was his funeral.
So I'm feeling lucky. Lucky to have the wonderful friends I have, lucky to have the wonderful woman I love, and lucky to live in the time I live in.
I'm told that a wall of tissue had built up around my appendix. The surgeons performed laparoscopic surgery to remove the appendix. When they got in, they found that the appendix was perforated. I understand that standard action at this point would be to convert to the standard surgery, which the surgeons didn't do. Even though, as they put it, it looked like a bomb had gone off in my abdomen, they removed it and cleaned up.
I have no doubt that if this had happened at an earlier time in my life, in much the same way, that I likely would not have survived. The technology would not have been up to the task.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 03:53 pm (UTC)Your home! Yay!
I feel bad that I could find the time to get my ass over to visit you. Most likely we won't see you and Laura until we're all in Boston. Isn't that silly that we don't see our local friends until we're all in other states???
no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 03:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 04:25 pm (UTC)Are you sure about the not seeing us until Boston?
If not, I'm looking forward to seeing you and Joe in Boston.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 05:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 06:50 pm (UTC)Apologies...
Date: 2004-08-23 06:57 pm (UTC)Good news on the coming home (alive! :) front.
If Wizard's happens when I'm not overwhelmed with things I'll try to make it.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 07:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 07:56 pm (UTC)I'll try to remember to pack the set for Boston.
Re: Apologies...seem to be uncalled for
Date: 2004-08-23 07:58 pm (UTC)I'll try to pass the word if/when Wizard happens.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 08:00 pm (UTC)Now you know why I/we didn't make it to dinner on Monday (or maybe that's the Vitamin M, still got me in its clutches).
I Think I Had the Nursing Staff Boggled
Date: 2004-08-23 08:07 pm (UTC)I expect they learned that carrots and sticks worked all too well with me. When it seemed like it was taking too long for my bladder to wake up from the anesthesia, they casually mentioned that if it (my bladder) didn't get with the program, they'd have to catheterize me.
I didn't leave the bathroom until I had enough production to forestall the threat.
I'm told that five+ days is a relatively long time in the hospital for this kind of surgery. Given the possible downside of leaving too early (peritonitis), I can't be too unhappy about it.
Heh, your friend only has one scar. I'll have two, and a navel that can never again be exposed in public.
Re: I Think I Had the Nursing Staff Boggled
Date: 2004-08-23 09:13 pm (UTC)And I say expose that navel proudly! It's a monument to medical science!
no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 10:26 pm (UTC)i'm glad you're pretty much okay--that seems a little too close for comfort to me, though!
no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 11:15 pm (UTC)B
no subject
Date: 2004-08-24 05:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-24 08:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-24 12:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-25 08:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-01 07:59 am (UTC)I'm very glad you're alive and home. I picked the wrong time to fall behind on LJ, and the regular fannish grapevine failed me, so I didn't hear that you were sick until you were mostly well again.
I suppose you're well past the chicken soup stage now? If not, say the word, and I'll get my mother's recipe.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-08 03:54 pm (UTC)*urk*
Much appreciation you are still around as well.
*hugs*