THE NEGATIVE REACTION

You know you're in trouble when

You wake up in the middle of the night and you're in so much pain, you can't go back to sleep. I've come to realize the body has a unique early warning system when something isn't right. My turn to get face-to-face with my own warning system came at 3:30am, July 25th, 2010. I attempted to ignore the pain and go back to sleep. Thankfully, my body did not listen to me and my pain started to increase. At which point I got out of bed and went out to the couch to spare Bren my tossing and turning which surely woke her up. 90 minutes later and after thinking, "I'd better go in, just to make sure, remember what happened to Mike, don't be stupid." Mike, was my nephew who ignored the pain and had his appendix burst while he was at home. My brother-in-law found him, face down in the fetal position, unable to move because the pain was so intense. Several surgeries and hospital stays later, and he's finally recovered. It was enough to motivate me to inform Bren I was going to the ER to get checked out.

On my way over to the ER, I remembered my 6th grade heath teacher Mr. Kenyon trying to explain, in grave detail, the pain of having an appendicitis "attack" as he called it. Guess he wanted to instill in us how bad it would be. His words were something to the effect of, "You'll know when it happens, imagine someone taking a long sword and stabbing you in side of your torso - repeatedly. Trust me, you'll know it when it happens." As I looked around the room I saw several of my classmates wincing in pain and crumpling their bodies up in weird positions. Now, as I drove to the hospital, I knew what he meant. My pain seemed to be radiating across my whole lower abdominal area. If I took the time to breathe deep and relax, it felt just like he described it. Sharp, deep pains to the right side of my torso. Not very comfortable at all.

Luckily for me, the parking lot was empty when I got there. I reasoned there weren't a lot of stabbings, shootings and other mayhem on Sundays like there normally are on Friday or Saturday night. Last time I had to come to the ER, it was on on a Friday night. It was total chaos. Parking lot was full, cops and ambulances were everywhere, people almost stacked up in the waiting room. Cops arresting people while they were getting stitched up. As a morbid person, there is a certain humor that goes with someone getting handcuffed after getting stitches for doing something stupid. In any case, it was front row parking for me. I went in and explained what was going on. The staff did a great job of getting me in and set up with a bed. They said the doctor would be in shortly to ask me some questions and to try and relax.

When you're in pain, sometimes a friendly face can make all the difference

I'm in my room, thinking about a possible surgery for an appendicitis, and then the doctor walks in. It just happened to be the same doctor that treated me when I injured my shoulder playing hockey several months back. She recognized me right away and asked what it was that had brought me back to the ER. I described my predicament, and she said would do anything to help me out. She left and several nurses came in and started hooking me up to fluids and taking my blood and doing all kinds of other things. About ten minutes later, I felt that unmistakable rumble in my gut. I panicked and started furiously pushing the nurse button. A few minutes earlier I had told the nurse I was feeling a bit nausea and she gave me a bag and quickly exited the room. Now, I knew what was coming and I grabbed the bag and let loose with my dinner from the previous night. I had to sit there for several moments before the nurse finally came in the bag. Of the whole experience, this was my lowest point. The nurses quickly gave me some anti-nausea medicine. They prefaced it with, "They give it pregnant women, it's really safe." Of course the nurse came in and said I needed to take some "contrast" drink so they could do a CAT scan and make sure it was indeed my appendix. This, probably ten minutes after I blew chunks. I was in no mood to hear that, but after another ten minutes, I swallowed my pride and sucked both glasses down. A few minutes later, I was off to get my CAT scan.

The Family shows up

After I got back from the CAT scan, I was feeling better (probably all the drugs they were pumping into my body.) I got a text from Bren, her Mom had come over the watch Kenz and she was on her way over with my Mom and Dad. It was good to see them. My Mom hung around until they transfered me to an upstairs bed after determining it was indeed my appendix and it will have to come out. I was told when I got transferred I should be in surgery by 11:00am. The doctor has one big surgery, then I'd be next in line. It was 9AM.

The time comes, then goes. .

Around 10:00am, the nurse on duty came around and started prepping me for surgery. She put these weird wraps on my legs to increase my circulation. I was thinking, "Hey lady, I'm a hockey player, I have great circulation in my legs!". Nonetheless, she strapped em' on. A few more warm blankets and suddenly 11:00am came and went, then noon, then at 1:00pm, the nurse showed up and told me they had a gunshot victim and so this person needed surgery right away, and as soon as they were ready, they would come and get me. It was now 1:00pm.

I don't think there's anything worse than sitting around waiting to get operated on. As a rookie in the whole surgery thing, I was tough to sit around for so many hours thinking about what was about to happen, Watching "Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins" wasn't taking my mind off of the surgery. Having Bren there helped a lot. Another 4 hours drifted by, and at 5pm, the nurse finally came and got me. They wheeled me out and down to the operating room. I guess they have an "on deck" area where the nurses started briefing me about what was about to happen. In another few minutes, the doctor would show and we'd be a go.

Surgery. . finally

12 hours after I had first showed up in the ER, I was now being prepped by some veteran nurses for my surgery. They all had a very light hearted attitude, which was comforting to me. They really soothed my fears as to what was about to happen. The doctor finally showed up and explained what was going to happen. They were going to make three incisions. One in my belly button, one near my pelvic bone and one on my left side. They'd remove my appendix and within about an hour, the surgery would be over. He left to go get ready and the nurses then explained what was about to take place. They were going to give some oxygen and then some anesthesia and within seconds, I'd be out cold. A little more light conversation, then it was game on. They brought me into the operating room, got me on the table, strapped down my arms in the "Jesus Christ" pose as I called it. For a brief moment, I thought to myself, "Is this is what it's like when you're about to be put to death?" Morbid, I know, but it's what was going through my head, the nurse then said she was going to start the oxygen and put the mask over my face. I instantly switched to thinking about McKenzie, my family and my parents. I remember my Dad telling me the nurses told him to think of positive things when they were about to put him under for his surgery, so I was doing the same thing. Then everything went black.

Recovery, the long night away from home, then home at last

I woke up to double vision. Trying to focus was not a good thing to try, but I felt comfortable. The nurses told me the surgery was a success and I did well. My face was itching like crazy and I was in some pain. I try several times to open my eyes, but the double vision wasn't working, so I just closed my eyes and waited till I got back to my bed. Bren waited about another hour to make sure I was ok before she left to go home. She planned on picking me up the next morning after I was discharged. Needless to say, it was a L O N G night. I didn't get much sleep, but the nurse on duty overnight was a real doll. She continually checked in on me and keep getting me warm blankets and kept refueling my ant-pain medication which was a godsend. I barely slept and usually slept only about 45 minutes at a time.By the time 3:30am rolled around, the nurse wanted me to get up and try to go to the bathroom. I said I didn't need to go, but I was warned right before surgery how important it is to get your body functioning again since they pretty much shut your body down during surgery. I reluctantly got up and ambled into the bathroom. I pulled my gown up and waited for what seemed like an eternity. Then I started to pee. Then I stopped. Then it felt like fucking razor blades coming out. I started thinking to myself, "I swear I'm never making fun of those urinary flow commercials EVER again. I can't imagine what it would be like to have this condition all the time. After a short pee, I was thankful to lay back down and pass out for another 45 minutes. By 9am, I had sent a text message to Brenda they were getting ready to discharge me. I would have to eat breakfast first. I had pancakes and eggs along with some water After my discharge, Bren rolled me in the wheelchair to the parking ramp where I got up and walked the rest of the way to the car. I was happy to be going home.

As much as I was told it would be a quick recovery, it took several weeks before I was really feeling good enough to start doing normal thing again. I made the mistake of attempting to mow the lawn a few days after my surgery. I was soooooooooo sore afterwards - but it was a good lesson not to push it.

All in all, it was an interesting experience since I had never had surgery before. For all the after effects, I still give credit to the doctors and nurses at Park Nicolet Medical Center, they really calmed my fears and made the experience quite bearable.