Lap Appy sounds happy, right? Except it's not. It stands for laparoscopic appendectomy . Thursday night after dinner I notice some abdominal pain around my belly button. I wrestle with it on and off all night, praying that it would subside. It moves over to the lower right side near my hip. Come Friday morning I know something has to give. I call the nurse hotline and explain my abdominal symptoms and she said to get the Dr and they couldn't see me to go to the ER.
So I go to the local walk-in clinic with mom and all the children. Katie is strictly breastfed and will not take a bottle so mom goes to watch her while I saw the Dr. Plus I am in too much pain to hold her. Anything touching my stomach is too much. I fail too many of the wrong tests with the Dr so he sends me to the hospital for a CT scan and CBC to rule out an appendicitis. He has "his fingers crossed" that it was a cyst on my ovary since I've only had 2 cycles in 6 years. : )
At the hospital they rush me through registration and get me to a back waiting room to wait for the scan and blood work. By this time I'm in lots of pain. Mom and the sweet children follow along. I nurse Katie before the CT scan since due to my light weight they have to use contrast dye. By this time it's about 1:30. We started at the clinic at 10. Me, I've had only a bowl of cereal at 7AM. I'm starving and in pain. The children parade their drinks and food around, oblivious to the events around them.
After the scan and blood work, I'm sent back to the waiting room. The nurse says that she can't tell me the results but if they come and take out my IV that's a good sign. So when I see her and a new doctor walking towards me my heart sinks. He says the words I didn't believe were true. My appendix is enlarged, not yet ruptured, and it needs to come out soon. Maybe antibiotics overnight and take it out in the morning. What? That soon? He says a volunteer will come escort us to the ER where I will meet with the surgeon. Do I have one I want to use? No, I have no surgeon.
So we move to an ER exam room where they start prepping me for surgery. At this point my head is spinning. Jeremy isn't even on his way yet. I can't go into surgery. This can't be happening. Surgery? Emergency surgery? Katie doesn't take a bottle. I'm not prepared for this. I'm weeping and emotional and in total denial. They take blood and more blood and ask questions; so many questions. I meet this doctor and that nurse. They wheel me down the hall in the bed to another room where they continue to prepare me for surgery. I see the surgeon again, an anesthesiologist, and too many nurses. Still more questions, asked by too many people too fast. I see Jeremy in the hall and my heart skips a beat. Finally a familiar face, my comfort in the storm. He comes by my side and they let Katie come nurse one last time before I am wheeled away. In the OR room, I've terrified. Big bright round lights I see from lying flat on my back. On comes the gas mask, meds in the IV, and out I go.
I awake in the recovery room coughing my lungs out. The breathing tube has scratched my throat raw, breathing tube. I can't grasp all this. After recovery I'm wheeled up to my room to be greeted by my precious family who I've never been so glad to see. By this time is 6PM or so. We borrow a breastpump so I can pump and dump. Katie and the children go home with my parents. Katie, poor Katie, the one who went from 4PM on Friday to 10AM on Saturday with no milk. She won't take a bottle. God knows they tried and tried. She'd rather starve. God was so gracious and gave her a good nights rest. Better than when she does nurse, that should say something about her sensitives to nursing. She'd love it if I had to fast all the time. For me, the night passes slow with morphine and beeps and lots of visits from nurses and the Food Network. Seriously, I thank God for the Food Network. It was a comfort during the silent hours of no sleep and constant thoughts. Who knew the Pioneer Woman had a TV show?
By 11AM we're out and headed home in more pain that I've ever had. Gas pains in my neck. They pump you full of C2O for surgery; the smaller, the more gas they need. It's like having labor pains in my neck. The pain, oh the pain, it keeps me on my feet. Sitting and lying down pushes the gas up and it almost makes me faint. It's that bad. But I'm home with drugs (which aren't much help), 3 holes in my stomach, no appendix, and a family who loves me and takes great care of me. I praise God that He took such awesome care of me and allowed me to get help before it ruptured and things got really nasty. I praise Him for this time of growth and for seeing me through the dark hours. And I praise Him and thank Him (once again) for modern medicine, doctors, machines, drugs, caring nurses, and the amazing human body, even though frail and fallen, its amazing ability to heal.