Thoughts on illness

With what I've been through the past week it seemed appropriate that I do a piece on my thoughts with the whole thing. I'll start off with what's happened, so when I go back to this a week, month, year or whenever from now I'll have a record and be able to remember exactly what happened.

On Thursday night, September 17th, we went to bed as usual after a completely normal day. Around 11 I got up in a bit of discomfort; as I was having some lower intestinal issues, or episodic events/episodes as Vivian calls them, I figured it was just something I had eaten and, after a short time, went back to bed. About two hours later I woke again, in considerably more discomfort, and decided to go down to my basement so as not to disturb Vivian, sixteen weeks pregnant and who never sleeps well. The pain had moved down a bit as it intensified so I was still thinking gas or something similar. After a few more episodes (along with some powerful dry heaving) and no relief or lessening of the...well, I think almost crampy feelings would describe it best, around 3 I took a couple Aleve, normally my go-to drug for all around issues. It was no help and, as much as I hated to, I woke Vivian and asked if we had any muscle relaxers. This was a hint as to how I was feeling; normally I'm not big on taking aspirin, much less looking for something more powerful especially knowing how hard things like that hit me. She suggested the Aleve that I had already taken and also that I try heat.

Over the next few hours I applied a good bit of heat and was able to get a little sleep. The pain had been pretty continuous and, ominously, I now had pain by my right kidney. Lying flat was painful, curled up not much better and believe me I tried every possible position to try and get some relief. By the time Vivian woke I knew I wasn't going to go to work on time and was figuring a quick trip to the walk-in clinic to get something for the pain then working the rest of the day would flush whatever it was out of me. I emailed my supervisor and two dispatchers I trust, since I didn't know who was working that day, asking them to clear the two jobs off my board before lunch (luckily it was a quiet day and the two jobs looked pretty vanilla), figuring that would give me time to hit the clinic, take a prescription and a quick nap and still get in half a day of work. Yes I admit it, I do love what I do and hate missing any time. Vivian finished getting ready and followed me to the clinic, where she then headed for work (she had a report that had to get rushed out and was going to Manchester later).

Once in the clinic I checked in and wasn't encouraged by the expressions of the receptionists- their eyes kind of popped when I described my symptoms and, since I had been there before, they pulled my chart immediately (something that I had never seen done). I had a short wait and was escorted in, got the vitals out of the way then in came Dr Miller, both my and Vivian's regular doctor, a wonderful little Scottish woman who I was VERY happy to see this day. She asked a couple questions and pretty quickly told me she was thinking appendicitis, which is what I had been thinking too. I was asked to lie back and she probed my abdomen for a few seconds, then said I needed to head to the hospital for a CT scan and probably surgery. Even though I had been mentally preparing for this it was still a shock to hear and, coupled with the worried expression she wore and I had never seen before, caused me to start to panic a little. She said she was ordering an ambulance and was surprised when I said I could drive myself. It didn't take her much to convince me that an ambulance was the best bet, though in hindsight I probably could have driven. I think what convinced me was when I realized that this would probably give me cuts to the front of the line when I got there and that, in the state I was in, driving somewhere I wasn't 100% sure where it was, namely the ER itself, probably wasn't the best idea. Once I agreed she went to make the arrangements and I sent Vivian a message letting her know what was going on. I was having a hard time holding myself together at this point- I was exhausted and scared stiff and asked for a few minutes just to get myself together. The people at the clinic are wonderful and let me be to try and compose myself as they got the paperwork and everything else set.

In very short order the Montville ambulance arrived, got me strapped in and loaded up for my first ambulance ride. The guy in back with me got my history and everything else taken care of on the drive and was laughing as I told him I'd love to find an old ambulance and fix it up for camping- it kept my mind occupied, which was hard to do as so many things were running through my head.

Once in the ER I was taken over by their staff and in what seemed like no time I was in hospital clothes, had an IV started and had been officially admitted. The doctor came to see me and taught me about the MacBernie point, which is the area on your abdomen where something like 99.9% of appendicitis patients point to when asked to locate the midpoint between the areas of most pain- I thought this was a pretty cool piece of trivia. He said I was "soft", meaning assuming it was appendicitis it probably had not ruptured, and ordered a CT scan. This was one of the less pleasant things I had ever done- at one point you get injected with iodine, about halfway through, and it gives a lovely "flushed" sensation that starts at your head and also hits your nether regions. This, essentially, makes you feel as though either you've peed on yourself or someone has poured gently warmed water on your crotch, not a fun thing at all.

Back in the ER room, Vivian arrived- I needed her support and was relieved when she got there to be with me. Her mother arrived shortly thereafter and then the doctor came back with the results- it was appendicitis, it looked as though it hadn't burst and I was getting scheduled for surgery immediately. At this point I was so tired and emotionally wrung out that it was actually a relief to know what the problem was and that it was going to get fixed. The surgeon came pretty quickly and told me it would be laparoscopic, one incision, and that they would take good care of me. He, along with everyone else in the hospital, knew my mother-in-law and I think this helped a little, everyone seemed exceptionally nice and helpful. I gave Vivian all my jewelry, glasses and clothes, including the iPod touch I had just purchased a few weeks before, and was wheeled upstairs. To give an idea on time I was at the walk-in clinic at 8 AM and, if I remember right, it was noon or just after when I went up. Once in the OR I was strapped in and then that was about it.

I woke a few hours later in recovery and was told immediately that everything went well. Apparently it took longer than they had thought initially and I was in surgery for something like three hours, so Vivian was very relieved to come back and see I was okay. She left to take care of the dogs as I recovered from being knocked out then was brought up to my room, right by the nurse's station. My roommate, as I figured during the night, was in his 70s or 80s and wasn't in full control of his faculties- the regular diaper changes he had and the muttering he did all night, as well as the staff's familiarity with him, convinced me of this pretty quickly. Needless to say this didn't lend to much of a restful night, and I was VERY glad for the iPod to keep me in touch with the world.

Morning finally arrived and I was allowed to stand for the first time in 24 hours- as painful as it was it still felt great just to be able to get up. I was able to clean up some and change, then it was the waiting game for the doctor. Vivian came up to be with me and made me smile when she told me Seamus had searched the house a couple times looking for me; thinking about it later this had been the first night he'd been at the house and I hadn't been since he joined our family, I guess he was a little confused and missed his daddy. When the doctor came he said my incision looked good and, if I felt up to it and could keep food down, I was free to head home. This was the news I'd been wanting to hear, I was going a little nuts just lying there unable to really rest.

Food came, and I was figuring it would be something soft- soup, crackers, Jello. Was I surprised when I got the "standard" lunch- roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, salad, a roll and sherbet, along with coffee and milk. Needless to say I didn't finish all of this and, contrary to everything I'd heard about hospital food, it actually wasn't bad. Maybe five minutes after it was taken away the nurse asked how I was feeling and, when I said I felt okay, they told me I could get dressed and started to get the discharge paperwork ready. Vivian helped some with getting dressed but I did more myself than I thought I would have been able to, which felt good, then was wheeled out and headed home. Let me tell you, I felt every single bump on the way home too, hadn't really realized how bad the streets were and that was in the Forester- in the XTerra it would have been even worse. When we got home Vivian got me settled on the couch after a VERY enthusiastic welcome home by the critters, then she went and got me my pain medication and the sleeping started.

In the almost week now since that I've been recovering I've been doing a lot of sleeping and a bit of thinking. It's scary to think that, as recently as the beginning of the last century, there's a very good chance that I could have died from something now considered as simple as an inflamed appendix. I was in and out of the hospital in a period of something like 24 hours, will have maybe a six-inch scar to show from this and will be back to work, though on light duty, two weeks after all this happened. No stitches either, the skin's pretty much just glued together, which in itself is amazing to me. Yes I'm tired still and the drive to my checkup and back pretty much wiped me out yesterday but I know I'm on the road to recovery and that every day I'm a little better, knowing that helps a lot. Until I go back to work I plan on writing more, either here or on my travel blog, catching up on some reading, enjoying this quality time with my puppies and try not to push myself too hard as I did a couple days after surgery; I think I know my limits and will try not to push them too far. The last part will be the hardest, especially as I start to feel even better; I'm not good at just sitting around for long periods and my challenge will be to make sure that I don't try to rush into things too fast and hurt my recovery.

How to end this? I think by remembering the positives- that I am recovering, that I will be fine, that I know there's no way this can happen again, that I have a loving wife who has taken wonderful care of me this whole time and thinking of all the support and encouragement I've gotten from friends and family through all of this. I am truly blessed to have such wonderful people in my life, and am glad and even more appreciative of my overall good health and happiness with life. Now on to the next big hospital visit in a few months- the arrival of our child. What will that bring? Will I experience a level of happiness I have never before encountered? Will everything go as smoothly as we hope and will we end up with a healthy, happy child to enrich our lives? I hope so and can't wait to find out and start on life's next great adventure, parenthood...