When it rains it pours. On Tuesday July 5th, two days before surgery I got all of my business sorted out. I went to the union hall and let them know that I would not be available for some time. Then I checked in at the benefit office and got my paperwork in order for short term disability. My last visit was to the doctors office to have my paperwork filled out for disability and EI. Once at home again I did everything I needed to do online ending with filling out my EI for sick benefits. I literally just pushed send for my claim and got up to go to the bathroom and the phone rang. It was the surgeons office calling to cancel my spinal fusion surgery and re-book for September 19th. Of course I was absolutely mortified. That kind of news completely takes the wind out of your sails. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't two days before surgery. I had put off getting all my paperwork sorted out because I wanted to be sure that we were close enough to the surgery date that it was going to happen. It also doesn't help that I was psyching myself up for months, this is not an easy decision to make or take lightly. And then to be that close to the date and have the rug pulled out from under you. Unfortunately the surgeon has had a family emergency and taken the rest of July off.
So with the bad news in hand I was reeling. It felt like a downhill slide was happening. I couldn't believe that the news was hitting me so hard. I felt absolutely horrible. It even seemed like it was affecting me physically. I was almost feeling sick to my stomach. As the afternoon started to pass I started to feel worse. I figured I had to get up and moving and busy to make myself feel better. Nothing better than slow cooking ribs on the BBQ to make a man feel better, so I got dinner started. Then I went for a walk to the hardware store to pass some time and get some air. I ran into a friend on the way, who commented that I didn't look to good. Of course I didn't look too good, I'd just received a giant blow, my spirit was broken. By the time I got home from the hardware store I was in misery, so I turned off the BBQ and crawled up to bed.
The next thing I remember is Christie rubbing my back and trying to get me up. She seemed concerned that something was wrong. I'm not sure what I told her but I knew that I had a bellyache. I needed to go potty and managed to make my way downstairs even though I felt like I was going to pass out several times on the short journey.
After that the first thing I remember is being on the bathroom floor with Christie and her mom Pam over me trying to get me up and talking some nonsense about calling an ambulance. I just wanted her to stop nagging me and let me sleep. At this point some time had passed, it was pushing toward 9pm and the last I remember was maybe 5:30ish and Christie get home from work around 6. So I have no idea how long I was on the bathroom floor, but Christie was sounding pretty upset. I figured I had better make an attempt to get up if she was ever going to stop nagging me.
The pain getting up was excruciating but I managed with a chair. I made it to the couch and laid down again. Christie kept talking some gibberish about going to the hospital and I kept telling her she was crazy, or something along those lines. Then she told me that if I didn't go that she was going to stay up all night and watch over me. At this point I realized two things, one was that she must be really worried which means that I must look pretty bad, and two was that I would be quite happy just going to sleep but I was not going to let her stay up all night.
So at that point I go myself back up and said, "if we're going we're going now". We got in the car and headed for West Lincoln Memorial Hospital. I'm not sure how long we sat in the triage area (last time we were 3 hours before being triaged)but at some point I just couldn't take it anymore and collapsed to the floor. At that point I heard something about 'code red in room 14' and I was instantly greeted by a nurse that was telling me that I couldn't stay on the floor. They helped me up and into the triage area where they gave me a barf bag (I must have looked ill). Within a short period they had me in a room.
Diagnosis was slow and painful. The bloodwork showed that my white cell counts were down and poking and prodding along with the xray suggested that my appendix was inflamed. But they needed an ultra-sound to confirm and being a small town hospital they didn't have a technician until the next morning. If that wasn't bad enough they didn't even have a surgeon on staff that could deal with me if it was my appendix. If it was my appendix they where going to have to ship me off to the Hamilton General Hospital.
The next morning appendicitis was confirmed by the radiologist. So it was off to Hamilton with me. Now I had to wait until 2pm for the transfer ambulance to retrieve me and take me to the Hamilton General. Once we arrived at the General and got situated at the emergency desk the fire alarm went off. Poor Christie and her sister Ann were darting through all the zoned doors trying to catch up to me so they could find out where they were taking me, but as they caught up they were told that they had to exit the hospital until the alarm issue was settled. Luckily the hospital was still accepting emergencies, but everything elective was cancelled. At least I was in.
Of course I had to go through whole process of poking and prodding by the Hamilton doctors. Once they were satisfied that my appendix had to come out they had me sign the consent forms. Then they broke the bad news, I'd have to wait until 11pm and it was only about 4:30. So I was going to have to suffer for another six and a half hours. At least there was enough time for Christie to go home, have some dinner, grab her car and come back before I went in for surgery. The decision was made, they were off.
Forty minutes later the head resident was back to inform me that a spot opened up in the O.R. and I was being taken in immediately. I called poor Christie to inform her, the poor girl was panicked and half way home. They turned back and made it just before they wheeled me into the O.R.
Everyone in the O.R. introduced themselves to me and gave me an understanding of what was going to happen. The anaethetist put me to sleep and the next thing I know someone was calling my name as I woke up and immediately puked into the tray they were holding in front of me. I never would have believed it but you really do puke when you come out of the anaesthetic.
I fell asleep right away and the next thing I remember is Christie and Ann standing over me. It was all uphill from there. Sleep, awake, sleep, awake, it was a groggy mess for the next 6 or 8 hours. Thursday morning I woke up and felt great. My tummy was sore, but compared to how I felt before surgery I felt fantastic. Before long I was up and walking laps around the ward. Every doctor and resident that I ran into that had something to do with my surgery was quite surprised at how well I looked and how much walking I was doing. I ran into the head resident who told me that my appendix looked 'very angry'. I asked him if it was perforated and he said that it was not but didn't look far off.
I went from clear fluids to fluids to full diet in a matter of a few hours. Once Christie showed up we went for lunch in the cafeteria and a big walk around the hospital. We got back and the nurse told me that I had been discharged.
So we hurried and got me packed up and got out of there just before 2pm. What an experience to be checking out from an appendectomy on the very day that I should have been getting my spinal fusion on the same floor of the same hospital.
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