Separation Anxiety

I don't know if anyone else has been in the position I was in on Tuesday. If you have, I tip my hat you. If you have not there is still a one in three chance that your ticking timebomb some call an "appendix" will one day too decide its time in your body is over and it wants to move on. To those lucky one third I dedicate this story.



Chapter 1: Appendix

It all started on Tuesday morning. I woke up with pains in my sides, which comparably felt on par with having cramps after heavy exercise. You know that feeling when you're out of breath because you've just gotten up from the couch, gone to the fridge to get another beer, then go back and sit down? Yeah, that kind of physical exhaustion. I went to an interview and charmed the pants off the marketing lady interviewing me (never had a pantsless interview before, but it was better than I thought). After the interview I was in more pain, but I decided that feasting on a buffalo chicken sub would clearly assist in my constipated feeling. Later that evening the pain persisted more strongly on my right side, my appetite diminished, and around midnight I decided my pain was rising faster than it should. I did not want to go to the hospital since I am uninsured, and had been since I quit working at Critical Logic, so heading to the hospital (or what now would be the ER at 1am would be quite costly) was not high on my list of immediate desires. We spent about an hour calling Devon and my parents until we realized that by some tiny tiny loophole I am still qualified for insurance through COBRA, and that I could potentially be insured before going into the ER. Word of the wise to anyone who has relative in latter timezones, it is AWESOME. While now in Troy it is 2am Wednesday in Alaska it is 10pm Tuesday, so while I was on my way to the ER my parents were on their way to the post office to timestamp my insurace renewal forms the day prior. Will this work.....? Who knows, but it's worth a shot.



Chapter 2: Hospital

We arrive at the ER and meet my nurse, who while very nice and funny, is quite incompetent. She left me in a room for about half an hour in pain, then came back in and pressed on my left side and asked if I was feeling pain on my right. I said I was to which she looked confused about. I told her that my right side DID hurt and that she was pressing on my left. After a moment of confusion, followed by a moment of embarassment the nurse went back to work pressing on my sore side and this time getting the desired expression of grimmace from my face. The next few hours went like this: Someone comes in and asks me the same 6 questions as the person before them then leaves for 45 minutes. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I think my favorite time was about 4:30 when I could not sit because I was sore, I was tired, and was in the most pain I had felt all day long...and then there were drugs. Sweet, sweet, painkilling drugs. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.................................................



Chapter 3: Appendectomy

I don't remember it, by this point I was on more drugs.



Chapter 4: Recovery

I woke up with a tan-gone-bad on my stomach, 3 holes, and apparently a body part missing. I was still sore, crazy tired, not wearing pants, but on the plus side I have the best bed in the best room on the whole floor. Corner room facing downtown Albany. The downside was my angry room mate who was growling at nurses and other staff all day/night long, and at 3am shit his bed. Literally shit his bed. Moral of this story: don't be angry or you will soil your pants. I spent a total of about 24 hours in that room in recovery eating food, watching shitty tv, listening to my room mate, and sleeping. It was enjoyable, but still being really sore was definitely a pain in the ass. I think that at least 3 dozen times I imagined Paul doing all the work that I was witnessing and I must say I'm impressed. I don't think I would have the patience to help the angry, crying, unhelpful, messy, old, etc. variety of patients that I saw with as much grace and compassion that I witnessed. Eventually though my doctor finally came and visited me (at 6am the next day) and said I was free to go. I was discharged at 11. Must give them credit for their swiftness...



Chapter 5: Aftermath


What can I say? I loves me my fruit flowers. Thanks Paul. Also thanks for everyone else that was concerned about my health.