From My Recliner to Yours: The Story of an Appendectomy

***Note: parts of this story may be perceived to be graphic in nature. Read at your own risk.

Saturday, 5:00 AM

I wake up with some sort of vague stomach pain. Not really cramping or sharp, just dull, consistent pressure that doesn’t allow me to go back to sleep. I decide to drink some water and throw that up some minutes later. Not good.

A little while later, I (of course) google my symptoms (don’t we all) and decide maybe it’s an acidic stomach. At 7, I drive to the grocery store to get some Pepcid. Take it. Throw it up 30 minutes later. I am getting nervous now.

8:31 AM

I receive an e-mail from ODU letting me know I have been accepted to their doctoral program in Higher Education as one of their top candidates. I can’t get excited. The discomfort in my stomach is still there. There is no diarrhea, which makes me think this is not the usual stomach bug. I decide to go to an urgent care, but the one near me doesn’t open until 10 AM. So, I wait.

10:00 AM

Urgent Care. I am told at check-in they typically don’t work with patients presenting my symptoms but I am welcome to be seen. I decide to stay hoping to be lucky enough to be different. During my 90-minute wait to be taken back I throw up Gatorade in their bathroom. I am getting more and more restless. They take me back and do the usual: weight, height, temperature (none at this point), blood pressure. All appear normal and a urine sample is negative for infections. More waiting. Finally, a PA sees me and decides after pressing on my stomach I should probably go to the emergency department.

[Insert here how had this happened in Germany, I would have gone to the ER in the first place. But, I currently work part-time with no benefits and am on healthcare provided by the US government – at a level I can afford – with a $6,000 deductible. I wanted to avoid going to the ER because I didn’t think I could afford it. So, instead of going to the ER at 5:00 AM, I am sitting in an urgent care with no resolution at 1:00 PM – 8 hours after I presented with symptoms.]

Now I’m scared.

I text Deb that I am headed to the ER. My family is in Germany. My friends live out of town, are on vacation or otherwise unavailable. For the first time in my life I am headed to the hospital and I am alone. Deb responds she is on her way and should get there by 6:00 PM. Okay.

1:23 PM

I check in at the Moses Cone Emergency Department. I am taken to triage almost immediately (very short wait) and two phlebotomists try to get my blood, which takes some time. I’m dehydrated, they tell me. My veins are small and flat. My temperature is now 99.7. Then I sit and wait. Of course, I am still restless, so I ask one of the nurses near the check-in area what kind of wait time I can expect. She tells me they have a room for me, and it’s being cleaned. I have been bumped ahead of other people due to my symptoms. I’m relieved.

2:20 PM

I am taken back to the Emergency Department, room B16. My Birthday is on the 16^th. I see this as a good sign. I meet a nurse who takes my vitals again, gets me into a robe, gets me a blanket. I am really chilled at this point, probably both from the fever and some anxiety so I am shivering continually. I watch Food Network while I wait. Over the next few hours, I meet with someone about my registration and payment, a pharmacy coordinator and then my nurse goes off shift and I meet my new nurse Brooke. Let me just tell you, this girl is awesome.

3:00 PM

I meet Dr. DeLo, my practitioner. He seems nice. He tells me I have an elevated white blood cell count and a fever of 101.5. He does some poking and prodding on my abdomen and recommends a CAT scan. I am immediately relieved it’s not a dog scan, as I don’t like most dogs.

For about 30 minutes or so Brooke tries to find a vein for my IV. She even uses heat packs to coax one to the surface and is finally successful. Yes! Fluids!

5:30 PM

I am wheeled to radiography for the CAT scan. The hardest part was getting from my hospital bed onto their machine table, but we manage. The scan is painless and they get the pictures on the first try. I’m wheeled back to B16 for more waiting.

5:50 PM

The door opens and Deb pokes her head in! Hurray! All is well now. I still don’t know what’s wrong with me, but a dear friend is by my side to figure it out together.

6:15 PM

Dr. DeLo tells me my appendix is bad and I have to have surgery as soon as they can fit me in. Dr. Thompson will be my general surgeon and he is on his way. Finally, I know what’s wrong with me, 13+ hours after presenting with symptoms that might just have been a stomach bug – but could be fatal. I am glad I went to the ER, that’s for darn sure. They administer a broad-spectrum antibiotic through my IV that takes about 30 minutes to go in. Thankfully, I had not been able to keep anything down since morning, so they can do the surgery right away.

6:34 PM

Dr. Thompson comes to talk to us and to get me to sign a consent form for laparoscopic appendectomy. I will be prepped for surgery within the hour. Things are moving along now. He seems nice and capable, and I honestly don’t even care who gets that appendage out of me as long as it’s soon.

7:00 PM

I am wheeled up to a prep area where Brooke hands me over to my anesthesiologist team. I immediately fall in love with the very married Dr. Fitzgerald who has a very kind bedside manner. He asks what we’re doing today and I tell him they are going to take off my left toe. Deb, the nurse and he chuckle and he deadpans “We gave her the wrong consent form.” Before he leaves, he shakes my hand says “We will take good care of you.”

I try to relax.

At this point things get fuzzy. I am not sure exactly what time the surgery started, but I think it was about 8:15 PM. I am wheeled into a fairly large OR and they transfer me to the operating table. They put oxygen over my nose and mouth and tell me to breathe deeply and I go under. I was told I would be intubated once I was under and I am briefly concerned about my ability to sing after surgery. But no choice in the matter, the appendix has to come out.

9:15 PM

I wake up in OR and it’s jarring. There is hustle and bustle from the many nurses and I am shaking violently, almost convulsing in my hospital bed. Blankets are piled on top of me. I croak “did it go okay” but I can barely hear myself. No one seems to respond.  “Am I okay?” Someone answers “everything is okay.” I am wheeled to a large open area that I later learn is the recovery ward. I meet two new nurses and am put on oxygen under my nose. I ask for pain meds and they put something in my IV. It’s quiet, almost eerily so, as if nobody else was on the floor, but one of the nurses, a lady from Japan never leaves my side.

9:50 PM

I am wheeled to my accommodations for the evening, a luxury private hospital room with a private bathroom and a pullout loveseat for Deb. I ask Deb what the surgeon told her because no one has told me anything yet about my condition. She said everything went well and my appendix was “nasty.” Cool deal. I meet my evening nurse Nancy and tech Darius, both super nice. Darius gets Deb a stack of blankets and pillows and sets her bed up for her. I have some sort of compression wraps on my lower legs to prevent blood clots that alternately tighten up all night long. Very spa like. I am finally not cold. Nancy gets me ginger ale and I don’t throw up. Baby steps. I ask for more pain meds and am given two pills. They sort of take the edge off.

During the night I get very little sleep. I am wired, then texting with family back home, then every few hours Nancy will come in to help me to the bathroom (shit, that hurts getting out of bed!) and at 4:55 AM another phlebotomist comes to get more blood. We call her the one-stick wonder and I high-five her.

Darius keeps trying to throw things in the trash bin from across the room and misses every time, which makes me laugh.

At 7:00 AM, the shifts change and I get a new nurse and two new techs. Breakfast was bland oatmeal (yuck), coffee (yes!), eggs and a biscuit. Food! And I am able to keep it down. I eventually get up and walk down the hallway and back with my IV, leaning on Deb. I do okay.

10:00 AM

I meet with a PA followed by a doctor and they tell me I can go home. My temperature is back to normal and everything looks good, though my abdomen now hurts in a different way. I have a burst blood vessel in my left eye that no one seems to be able to explain, but it doesn’t hurt or impair my vision so I don’t care – I just want to go home! There are post-op instructions and more waiting and around 12:30 the nurse finally wheels me to the hospital exit.

23 hours inside. One appendage less. I am free.

All told, my care team was comprised of 33 Moses Cone employees, and I will include Glenda the housekeeper in that count (who wants a dirty hospital room?). Everyone I met was friendly, professional, reassuring, competent and kind. It was my first time in a hospital since birth and while it all seemed to take a long time, I was never left alone for very long, and always had a button to call a nurse if needed. I could not be more pleased with the care I received during this scary, frightening day.

And I am grateful. I am grateful to the doctors, nurses, techs, administrators and clerical workers. I am grateful for Deb to come down to be by my side and to stock my fridge and freezer with easy prep meals for my recovery, and for tidying up a bit around the house. I am grateful to everyone who prayed or sent warm wishes for my surgery and recovery.

And I am grateful to be alive. I know this seems overly dramatic, but I was on the fence about waiting the pain out and saving my money in case it was just a stomach bug. I’m glad I didn’t.

And I am finally excited about my acceptance to the Ph.D. Program.