Appendicitis

Date published: August 25, 2003

Yep, that's right folks. I got appendicitis and had to have an appendectomy. Here's the story, sorry it's so long. I may go back through it and trim it down a bit, but for now, you get the super, extended edition. Hope you enjoy it.

It all started around 6 pm on Saturday, August 23rd. My friend Sean Graham and I were sitting around on the couch at my apartment. We had just returned from eating DiBella's subs and then walking around RIT so Sean could see how much it's landscape had improved.

So we were sitting around on the couch just chatting about something. Around 6 pm, I noticed that I was having some massive cramps. But I figured they'd go away at some point so like I said, we were just talking. I was laying on my back on the couch. Around 7 pm, I shifted and started laying on my left side so that I could face Sean better. That's when I started to feel really sick.

I told Sean that I thought I was going to be sick and went to the bathroom. That's when I started vomiting. Man, I haven't thrown up like that in a long time. While sitting on the couch, I had been drinking some Gatorade. I think having all that liquid in my stomach set something off. Over the next hour and a half, I'd throw up, then lay down in bed for a bit, then throw up again, over and over.

Around 8:30 pm, the vomiting had subsided a bit and I noticed that the cramps weren't all over anymore. The cramps had turned into a pain in my lower right side. I mentioned to Sean and Paul (one of my apartment-mates) that I was beginning to think I had appendicitis, as I knew it was located on the lower right side of one's body. I knew that Sean was going to be headed out to a party and being that he was staying at my apartment for the weekend, I told him to just call the apartment when he got back from the party so I could let him in.

Around 10 pm, I called my mom and told her I thought I had appendicitis. She said that I could have just pulled a muscle from all the throwing up, which was a good point that I hadn't considered. I asked her at what point she thought that I should got to the hospital. Her reply? "When you can't walk." :)

For the next several hours, I just laid around trying not to moved too much. I ended up going out into the living room and watching TV. At some point, Paul went out and bought me some Ginger ale. Flat Ginger ale helps calm my stomach. After Saturday Night Live ended (1:30 am), Paul went to bed. I asked him if I could wake him up to bring me to the hospital if the pain got worse in the night. He said sure.

One and a half hours later, at 3:00am, I had read up on appendicitis on WebMD.com. I didn't even know that vomiting was a symptom of it. I just thought I had appendicitis because of the pain in that area. I read some horror stories about how if the appendix ruptures then it infects your whole body, and you have to stay in the hospital for weeks. The pain had become worse. So I woke up Paul. He brought me to the hospital.

As we walk into the emergency room, and there are 4 other people there. A nurse-woman checks my blood pressure and pulse, and asks me to rate my level of pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I said around 7. My blood pressure was normal. My temperature was 100 degrees Fahrenheit. The nurse said "Ok, got sit out in the waiting area." So I walk out and take a seat beside Paul.

At about 4 am, Paul received a phone call on his cell phone. Sean was at the apartment. I had thought ahead and wrote a message for Sean and posted it on the apartment door with Paul's cell number. I had also hid a key so that Sean could get it. Anyway, Paul told Sean where it was so he could get in and sleep.

At 5:30 am, none of the other people in the room or I had been seen other than re-checking of everyone's pulse and blood pressure. At that point my temperature was 99.2. I walked up to the main desk and asked the nurse-woman why no one was being seen. She told me that the doctors didn't show up until 8am and that they only take the "gun shot to the head" type cases until then. I told the nurse "Ok, well just so you know, my pain level is at about 9 now," even though it was a lie. :) It was only a partial lie tho. My pain HAD increased, but it was from a migraine I had...not from the pain in the lower right side of my body. Anyway, I went and told Paul the "news." I think it was ridiculous that the nurse never told me that there would be such a long wait before. I mean, come on now, it's just common courtesy! I told Paul that he might as well go back to the apartment and that I'd just call him with any news I received. So he did that.

7 am rolls around, I get hungry so I go and by a small bag of pretzels in the vending machine, and I call my mom to let her know I'm at the hospital and that they're suppose to see me at 8am. I ate half the bag of pretzels. At about 7:50am, they call me into the emergency room. They put me in this little room, ya know, like most emergency rooms have. On the wall I'm noticing some placards that are up. "ED PATIENTS, PLEASE PLACE CLOTHES UNDER BED." I sat there and tried figuring out what an "ED PATIENT" was. I decided that it meant Emergency Department. Apparently no only do they not call it an E.R. anymore, but they also no longer feel the need to put periods between the letters of an abbreviation. I never got official conformation that ED stood for Emergency Department, tho.

One doctor came in and examined me and asked me some questions. He decided that he didn't think I had appendicitis for three reasons. One, I was hungry and ate something...people with appendicitis aren't usually hungry. Two, I was at least 13 hours into the ordeal, and I'd be in worse pain than I was. Three, during the examine, my body didn't respond like it had an inflamed appendix. It should be a hard ball, and when you press on it then release there should be pain when you release.

Another doctor came in later and examined me. I have to say, both of the doctors were really nice guys. Tho maybe they were just relieved to have a patient that wasn't throwing up (a person a couple rooms to my left) or screaming and yelling (a person to my right). Anyway, that second doctor didn't think I had appendicitis either. I heard then talking in the hallway about possibly sending me home with some sort of prescription antacid or something.

Oh yeah, I didn't mention before...during my throwing up ordeal, whenever anything was in my stomach, even just water, I'd throw it up. After I thought the throwing up was over, I took a Tums...thinking that I just had food poisoning and that the Tums might help. Soon after that I learned that the throwing up ordeal was not in fact over. When your stomach is completely empty except for about a teaspoon's worth of this thick molasses like substance, it takes you quite some time to throw it up. :)

Back to the hospital, apparently the doctors got some blood work back and it revealed that I had a suspiciously high white blood cell count. Don't ask me when they drew any blood tho, I don't remember them taking any at all. I just remembering the nurse giving me some Motrin type stuff for my migraine, which was given intravenously...so I'd had a IV in since 8 am.

Based on the blood work that came back, they decided that I need to have some CT scans of my appendix region done...when they stopped calling them CAT scans, I don't know...but they are the same thing. So for the next 2 hours (from 10am to Noon), I had to drink this "contrast" stuff. It was like Tang...but not as sweet. Every ten minutes I had to drink a cup of this stuff. The contrast stuff was suppose to help stuff show up better on the CT scan. Because I was so tired at this point, I'd "nap" for 9 minutes, then drink the stuff, then nap again. I did fine with that routine for the first hour. Then at about 11am I fell asleep, and woke back up at 11:30 and just continued drinking this stuff.

At Noon they wheeled me into the CT scan room and did a couple scans, then they put some contrast stuff in my IV (and thus into my bloodstream) that made my whole body really warm...especially my throat, and did a couple more scans. Around 1 pm, my mom called my "room," and I updated her. She asked if I knew if I was going to be having surgery or not. I said no, but just then one of the nice doctor guys who thought that I didn't have appendicitis informed me that the CT scan showed that my appendix was inflamed and that a surgeon would be in to talk with me more. So I was going to be having surgery. I told my mom, and she said she was going to drive the 8-hour drive out to Rochester from Vermont.

Around 2:30 pm, a surgeon student-type guy came in. He was my age. He asked me a bunch of questions and talked with me a bit about what would be taking place. Another nice guy. One thing he mentioned that was bad was that I had ate something. Apparently they can't perform a surgery unless it is at least 8 hours after you've ate something. Something that the woman in the emergency room who checked me in never told me. And the vending machine was right in the emergency room. Oh well, it would be at least 8 hours by the time they got me in to the operating room anyway.

So now that surgery was eminent, they moved me to a different room. This new room had a TV so time went by a little faster there...tho time seemed to go by fairly quick anyway because I was dozing off now and then. Eventually, two female nurses came in and told me I was headed up to the operating room. It was probably 4:30pm at this point. They told me that they had to take my glasses and my socks and put them in a "security bag" to store them away with the security people so they wouldn't get lost. Earlier, I had called my friend Jim (who I was suppose to house and fish sit for in 3 days) to come and pick up my wallet and clothes, again as a security measure. So all I had left was my glasses and socks, which I kept because the floors were SO cold.

So they take my glasses and socks, and wheel me to the operating room. Now, I'm in the operating room lobby laying in my mobile bed. I'm just in the hallway near the "secretary" counter. There are two people behind the counter, a woman who I can "see" (remember, I don't have my glasses anymore) and a guy who I can hear but have no clue where he is (he was talking really loud too). While waiting in the lobby all sorts of people came to talk with me: the student guy who talked with me about the surgery before, a woman he reports to who was a senior student-type person, the main anesthesiologist woman, the assistant anesthesiologist guy, the nurse that would be in the operating room, and a secretary-type woman. This last person was interesting. When she came over and started talking to me, I was stunned because she sounded just like my paternal grandfather's sister, Marilyn. She sounded just like her and sort of looked like her too (tho remember I had my glasses off). Anyway, what do you suppose her name ended up being? Marilyn! :) Several of the people in the operating room had asked me if I had anyone at the hospital with me. After I told Marilyn that she reminded me of my great-aunt, she said "See, you've got family here with you." I also told them that my mom was on the way, but that she wouldn't be around until 10 pm or so.

I mentioned at some point to the people in the operating room that I couldn't see anything because I didn't have my glasses anymore. It was funny that the people in the emergency room made me put them in a bag to be locked away because in the operating room, the secretary woman said, "Oh well we could have just held them right here for you so you could have them when you got out of surgery." Heheh, I guess the bigger an organization is, the more communication breaks down, and different departments do different things. I've noticed this at RIT before.

They started wheeling me into the operating room, but someone asked me if I had met my surgeon yet. I said no, so they left me out in the hall so I could actually talk to him before they brought me in. He came over and said "So you're Mr. Lyon and you're here for an appendectomy, right?" Everyone who I had met basically came up to me and asked/said the same thing, so it was good to hear that everyone knew what I was there for. I chatted with the surgeon for a minute, and then it was time for surgery.

Around 5:30 or 6 pm, they started wheeling me into operating room #2. Right as I was being wheeled in, they gave me something in my IV. The guy said I would feel like I had had a shot of Tequila. Well, I don't drink much at all, but all I remember is getting in the room and they said "Ok, you have to move yourself onto the operating table. I remember looking at the operating table, but that's it. Next thing I remember it's 10 pm, I'm in a dark room, and a nurse says "Guess who's here?" It was my mom.

I'm not sure if my mom saw me in the recovery room, where they keep people until the anesthesia wears off, or in my actual hospital room. I remember that they said I'd be in the recovery room for a couple hours, and that they would make sure I was awake and alert before they moved me to my hospital room. I don't remember the recovery room at all.

After saying Hi to my mom, I fell back asleep and then next thing I know, it's 1 am. The nurse brings me some crackers and water to get my digestive system working a bit on something. Everything tastes like plastic because of the airway tube they had put in my throat. Someone also told me that I should take a lot of heavy breaths to get my lungs working again. Apparently when you go under anesthesia, your whole body shuts down. For that reason, they gave me the food, told me to breathe heavy for a while, and put these things on my legs that kept expanding and contracting to get my blood flowing to my legs. They also gave me a vicodin for the pain.

It's still dark, and I still don't have my glasses, so the story gets a bit vague here for a while. I remember the nurse wanted me to walk around a bit so she helped me up and I just walked around the hallway, which was in a circle with the secretary/nurse desk area at the center...the emergency room was in a similar circle arrangement, but bigger. At first the nurse gave me her arm to hold on to as I walk around, she soon realized that I was steady on my own and that I didn't need her help, so she let me walk by myself and went back to her paperwork or whatever.

I guess I should mention the pain more. It wasn't anything excruciating. I mean it was hard to sit up and move a lot but still nothing horrible. I'm a trooper tho, and I recover quick...and the vicodin helped lessen the pain.

After walking around a bit, I decided I'd take a look at the incision marks. I had three holes. One on my right side about 6 inches below my nipple just below where my ribs stop; one in my belly button, and one about 6 inches below that one. Each had two pieces of tape running vertical over them (the right hole...the smallest, only needed one piece), and there was a bandaid placed horizontally on top of the tape. The tape was a substitute for stitches, which I thought was great...I'm not really that vain of a person, but before the surgery, I was happy to hear that it would be laproscopic and that I wouldn't have marks created by the stitches...just very little scars.

I went back to bed after that. I don't know what time breakfast came, but it was the next thing that I remember. Apparently they didn't want me on whole foods so that my digestive system could slowly work it's way back to normal. I thought this was funny tho, because they gave me a whole bunch of crackers at 1 am. In fact, I still had some left over, so I ate them with my chicken broth soup. Hmmm, what else did I have on that tray of food? I know that the main plate had nothing on it, and I thought it was odd that it was even there...just an empty plate. Did someone steel what was on that plate? Anyway, I know I had more apple juice and cherry jello. I can't recall anything else...that might have been all there was. I'll have to ask my mom if she remembers, as I know I told her later, when she showed up.

The day sort of started flying by about now. I ended up meeting the other guy in my room, he was an ex-pilot, was 87 years old, had been married for 62 years, couldn't hear well so all the nurses shouted at him, and was in the hospital for something to do with Diverticulitis. He was a really nice guy. He called all of the nurses (and even my mom at one point) "Honey," and he said the same 5-minute long prayer at least 3 different times while I was there. The first prayer time was around 4 am. I was all confused because I didn't know I had a roommate, and I didn't know why he'd be praying at 4 am.

For lunch they put me on whole foods. I know I had pears or apples, and more apple juice. I actually had something on my main plate this time. Again, I'll have to ask my mom what it was. It was good tho, I do remember that. I think it was Macaroni and Cheese. They also mentioned at lunch that if I was back on whole foods that I'd probably be headed out of the hospital soon.

Not too long after that, I met the assistant anesthesiologist guy who I met the night before. He asked me how I was doing, I said fine...tho I was feeling a bit of gas pressure. He said it was common because they had to pump me up with gas a bit so they can see around. Other than that and the slight pain, I felt fine.

Next thing I know, I'm headed out! My mom had brought me my overalls to wear so that I wouldn't put pressure on the lowest incision point, so I threw those on along with the other stuff she brought me. They gave me a prescription for some vicodin and told me not to drink alcohol or drive when I take it. They also said to shower with my back to the shower so as not to get the white tape stuff wet.

My mom brought me home. She was a doll and had done all my laundry and bought me some food. She claimed there was no food in the apartment...which was true...but that was only because I ate it all and needed to go shopping. Basically I laid around a fair amount over the next couple days. I had to master the art of rolling onto my side and getting up out of bed instead of just laying on my back and sitting straight up. My body didn't like it when I tried the latter. Also, I learned that when sneezing, one uses a significant amount of lower abdominal muscles. Every time I sneeze it was killer on that lower incision mark.

So that's my little (horribly long) appendicitis story. I hope you enjoyed it.

Update: About 9 days later, I had my follow up appointment. They took off the white tape, and gave me a clean bill of health. I was still moving around a bit slower than usual, but I was driving my car and had been to work for 2 days already, so everything was basically back to normal.