Thursday, September 29, 2011

Cuts You Up

I don't think she'll mind. I didn't ask permission. But in reality, she probably won't read far back enough through my posts to even know its here.  There is a plus to not paying attention to my blog.

Two nights ago I got texts from Becky telling me of her abdomen hurting and she was going to the ED to have it checked out.  It must not have been good, since her husband is a doctah and if he was advocating for her to go.....well then........

She was kind of being funny when she said she was probably just constipated.

I don't know if I ever mentioned it to anyone, but it turns out 19 years ago (well, in three weeks it will be 19 years) I had the same thought of being "stopped-up" , right after I thought I had food poisoning.  I wanted anything to make the pain better and ran though every case scenario - save one.

It was appendicitis.

For both of us.  I mean 18 years and 49 weeks apart.

Of course there were difference - she was asymptomatic except for pain.  I had the temp, the elevated white count.  Mine was perforated and it does not sound like hers was.  She has better nurses, as they fucking moved her IV so she could text better (hand to g-d!).  The RNs taking care of me shaved my entire arm only to put the IV into my fucking thumb.  Bastards!!!!   Mine also stayed in for eight days, but I'm guessing she'll be going home in the next day or so.

Becky was in Houston when it happened to me, but I got a call on the first night in the hospital where she made me laugh - and it hurt.  A lot.  I even remember the joke.  Let's just say that a normal appendix is about the size of your little finger.  Mine had expanded, according to the doc, eight inches.   ....and these are not "internet inches".

So you can imagine the exchange that went on between us.  I'd say laughter is the best medicine, but a morphine pump certainly doesn't hurt.

Becky's surgery was laparoscopic, mine was open wound. And I do mean OPEN WOUND.  They couldn't suture it shut.  I had to pack it with gauze for 4-5 weeks, three times a day until it healed inside-out.  That is why I have that killer scar you see in the title image.  She'll have a bikini scar at the most.

Rebecca is in good hands.  She's got her husband and kids around.  And I bet her mother comes running from four states over.  Completely selfish, I'm hoping it doesn't ruin her trip to Columbus (yes, another one!) in late October.



Song by:  Peter Murphy

6 comments:

Pac said...

That brings back memories. I remember visiting my hag in the hospital after her hysterectomy. The take-home lesson was that laughter is not always the best medicine. I dread the day she ever gets the opportunity for payback.

I'm glad your friend came through it okay.

wcs said...

I'm thinking, "what scar?" Then I saw it...

Theaterdog said...

Not fair, you get to eat cupcakes and look like that.
show off

rebecca said...

Where's the link to my blog?!
My surgery was cake compared to yours. CAKE!

Ray's Cowboy said...

Evenwith your Scar you are a HOT Man.

WOOF
Ray

Morty said...

I immediately thought this was a TMZ pic of a republican senator.