My memories resume when finding myself in a similar discomfort as to when I presented in the ED. It was the next day early in the morning and I was in the familiar setting of a hospital, although with an unfamiliar vantage point of being in the bed. The nursing staff reported that the case was uneventful. A cleaver term meaning that there were not any complications. They told me that the doctor would be rounding sometime after eight o'clock. This perplexed me, as in the medical training world rounding begins, at the latest, at half past seven. Surgeons on the other hand, being cut from a different cloth than other physicians, often times begin their work at a half past five in the morning, leaving the remaining day to preform the task that they enjoy the most.
When my surgeon did finally arrive, he stated the facts as I have in my previously posting. He stated that he would like to keep me for at least two days due to the extent of the infection in my belly. Often times only a short observation is preformed in uncomplicated appendectomies. However as I have illustrated, mine was not a case without complication. He left me to tend to the duties of an inpatient, namely eating, drinking, and restoring my constitution.
It was in this very morning that I discovered that my body and I were like great friends who for one reason or another had suffered a deep conflict and parting of ideas, and were now reacquainted only to find that we had a difficult time speaking to one another on the same intimate terms as before. Instead of the normal sensation of having a full bladder, this was replaced with diffuse pain throughout my belly. This was the same for the need for a bowel movement, moving gas through the bowel, hiccuping, coughing, sneezing or any movement at all. All communication came though the same sinister messenger of diffuse crushing pain.
Of course in modern medicine we still make good use of narcotics, but they bring their own set of discomforts namely: nausea, vomiting, illius, and retention of urine. For better or worse, I experienced all these sensations at various times and at any given point. During surgery I also made the acquaintance of a Foley catheter, an apparatus with which I would rather not have another meeting.
To add to my great displeasure, as if this were possible, if you kindly remember my comments from before regrading oral contrast, I had not yet had the wonderful affects of this mysterious liquid work through my system. This was only, at best, 48 hours after the first dosing. As the liquid worked its way through the maze of my paralyzed bowels, it further plunged me deeper into the flaming inferno I now called my life. Nor did I have the strength, and perhaps I lacked the will, to deal with this as a gentleman or woman would in the matter of cleanliness. It was several days before I was able to rid myself of the effects of the oral contrast, but I will not discuss this further.
The days that ensued were much the same: walk a few times to show progress to the staff, watch cable TV without knowing what was I was seeing, and call the nurses for their care and medications. However, let us not forget the most important reason preventing my return to the comforts of home, IV antibiotics. After the requisite two days had passed, my surgeon requested that I stay an extra day, but I felt I could preform the same tasks at home in a slightly more comfortable and private setting. That same day, the fourth of June, my Love kindly returned me to my home.
Life at home was not much different than it was in the hospital. I still had TV, medications, and the same uncomfortable relationship with my body. I had upgraded the nursing staff to a very attentive and loving wife. I weighed ten pounds more than I did when I when into the ED on that first day. I want to make the point that I weighed more than less because it is not known to the public that of each liter of fluid one receives in a hospital, two - thirds will remain in your tissues. I too had this water retention, which I made quick work of over the coming days. I added lactobacilli to my diet in the form of pills and yogurt to help colonize my bowel with healthy bacteria while I decimated the rest with the antibiotics.
I did little more for the next three days but sleep, try to eat, and attend to my basic human needs. Each day was met with less pain and more mobility. We had limited guests, as we were quite the bore. I received a priesthood blessing, giving me the power for a speedy recovery. Our friends made us the splendid game seen at the top of the posting.
When the time came to cast off my pajamas and
return to wearing regular clothing I found that I could not fit my belly into my pants due to the swelling that had taken place. I used a secret that pregnant women often employ before abandoning all hope of wearing their regular jeans. This involves a small rubber band placed in the loop of the jeans and the loose end being placed around the button. I found that this prevented much discomfort while wearing my pants, as well as preventing pressure on my tender belly.
It is now time for me to return to my labors. The rotation director has been kind in my absence, and we are making arrangements so that this rotation is not counted against me. I now can do all that I was doing before, although I am finding that I am experiencing several side effects due to the antibiotics which I will be taking for a number of days yet.
In reviewing this tale, the reader may wish to place blame on the first physician who saw me on the first of June. I would ask that this not be the case. It is true that there were signs of evil lurking in my body at the time of her consult. However acute appendicitis is a wandering target, and appears in an atypical fashion more often than a typical one. On that first day the pain was all in my upper gut. Focusing on that most obtuse symptom likely led the physician astray. It has also been mentioned by my love, Bryn-Erinn, that I am too stoic and I should have let my emotions of discomfort fly more during the examination with her. In all, all doctors will make mistakes. It is true that my course would have been much simpler had I had the procedure on the first rather than the second day. But how many times have I, to this date, made similar mistakes or will make similar mistakes? And if I, who was deserved, hold no grudge nor contempt, it would seem odd to me for the reader to hold such ill-regard.
