Suzy Q Homemaker

What!  I know!

I had to get my appendix taken out.  How fucked up is that?  I’ve never had surgery before in my life so it was so surreal.  What to hear how it all got started?  Of course you do!

Yesterday, we all drove out to the Chancey Family Reunion (Jamie’s Gramma’s side of the family).  I actually really like this side of the family because they’re all gun-totin’, huntin’ motherfuckers and generally fun to be around.  It was this side of the family that really pulled through when Jamie’s dad passed three years ago.  They had tons of crazy stories about Jamie’s dad when they were all growing up, like the one about when they painted Granddad’s mule as a practical joke.  At the house where we partied yesterday, there were several animal heads on the walls and I was so scared they were going to start singing at us like they do at that restaurant we went to in Atlanta.

Anyway, as is always the case at these family reunions, there was much eating to be done, mostly on BBQ and fixin’s.  I didn’t eat anything that was strange, but about two hours after we got home, I was convinced that I had a really bad case of food poisoning.  I didn’t barf at that point or get the Hershey squirts, my stomach just hurt really bad like I had to fart the loudest of all the farts known to woman kind.  But I couldn’t fart!

I researched home remedies for stomach ache, subjected myself to a concoction of baking soda and warm water (GROSS BY THE WAY), and even tried lying down with a heating pad on my belly to try to ease the pain.  It kept getting worse, though, and I got to thinking that it might be a ruptured ovarian cyst again.  Remember when that happened right after I got pregnant with Timothy?  A lot of things went through my mind at that point:

-Oh shit, there’s no way I’m pregnant
-If I am pregnant, what the hell am I gonna do?
-Maybe this isn’t a cyst but I have appendicitis?
-If it’s a cyst then I will get better

For the next eight hours, I convinced myself that I had a cyst and that it had exploded all its disgusting scary fluids all over my vital organs–but that I was going to feel better soon just like I did last year.  This would have explained all the searing pain that I felt in my gut, right?  On top of that pain, I couldn’t lie down on my right side because of a serious ache in my right lower abdomen.  Surely, I thought this was the offending ovary and tried to ward it off with vicodin and percocet.  Please don’t get all up in arms.  We do co-sleep, and I do breastfeed.  I did not take unhealthy amounts of these medicines.  Jamie took over baby duty and made it his mission to get Timothy to sleep in the cradle most of the night.

The heavy pain killers did nothing to ease the pain, though.  Sure, once they kicked in, I was no longer able to writhe around in agony for an hour.  After a quick sleep of maybe fifteen minutes, though, the burning started again and I was moaning and groaning again for the next three hours until I could take another something.  Not even Percocet could touch this pain.  Thing is, I am the last person who wants to inconvenience anyone, so I was afraid to wake Jamie, let alone call someone at 3:00 in the morning because I had a belly ache.  The way I figured it, if I called anyone and it turned out to be some bad pork, I would be so embarrassed.

The good news was that I did not eat bad pork.  I had plenty of family to ask in order to rule out this theory: my own family, Jamie’s mom, uncle, gramma, brother, nephew.  None of them were sick, so I was like shit.  BAD NEWS.  I was convinced that it was, indeed, an ovarian cyst.

At 6:00 a.m., after hurling a few times from the pain and no longer being able to describe my agony without weeping tears of grief, Jamie packed all the kids in the van and drove me to the ER.  The first pain killers and nausea medicine worked for an hour max, after which I puked green bile into a tiny plastic tub.  Great visual, I know.  So they gave me something different which finally knocked me out.  Note that I had not slept at all for more than 15 minutes at a time before this.  Sleep was such a relief!  In between bouts of blessed drug-induced dreamland, nurses came in, CAT scans were done, doctors poked around at me, and it was finally determined that I had a “suspicious” appendix.

We didn’t have to wait for long for surgery, which was surprising and scary because I thought for sure I’d have a few hours to digest the fact that I was going to be put to sleep with tubes down my throat and scopes in my abdomen.  In all the excitement, I did make sure that I talked to the anesthesiologist directly and tell him to be extra careful of my vocal chords.  I didn’t want to end up all Julie Andrews.  My throat is irritated, but I was told that it would be just from the tube being there and would feel better soon.

While I’m grateful that there was something seriously wrong with me, I’m sad that I can’t be with my family right now.  Yes, I enjoy the peace and quiet, but my heart goes out to Timothy.  In these short four months, I never built up a freezer stash, or even considered it.  No, I’ve only pumped out of necessity for choir rehearsals and the occasional night out with Jamie.  Jamie had to pick up some of the F-word and Timothy decided he’d rather suck his thumb than hav any of that shit.  The hospital won’t give me a breast pump unless I have doctor’s orders, so I have to just wait myself.  I’ll express into a cup or something so my supply won’t go down too much.  One of the anesthesia medicines has a 10-hour window for  excretion into my milk, so if I can tough it out until then, we’ll be golden.

My mom has Timothy tonight.  She told Jamie that Timothy will either be pissed off at home or at her house, but he’s got three other people to worry about.  What a saint.

So here I sit, sipping on clear fluids and eating jello while looking all sexy in my fancy anti-blood clot sox.  At least that pesky little appendix won’t bother me anymore, right?

Related posts:

1. so here’s a funny story
2. nursling
3. Library Day

Tags: appendicitis, family life, hospitals, surgery

18 Responses to “I’m in the hospital!”

Reply Below:

Name (required)

Mail (will not be published) (required)

Website

Notify me of follow-up comments via e-mail