I’ve written before about life’s surprises: how they are often unpleasant, how they sometimes have a hidden blessing, and how sometimes, you just have to be a grownup and wait them out. I don’t know if we’re just the unluckiest people ever to live in Prince William Country, but life decided to throw us another surprise party, only it wasn’t remodeling this time. It was surprise surgery.
Tuesday morning I was making plans to enjoy the end of my temporary child-less state, plotting to finish painting a bathroom and maybe do some shopping. But by Wednesday morning, I was admitted to Prince William Hospital with acute appendicitis and expecting emergency surgery any minute.
I hate those kind of surprises.
It started with some fresh pineapple that left me feeling sick. A common reaction, I read online, so we waited it out. When the pain became more severe and localized, I began to wonder if I was in trouble. Dad said it sounded like appendicitis and that we should go to the emergency room. I didn’t want to go (who does?), but late that night, we did anyway.
Daniel and I laughed at how similar this was to the night we drove to the hospital to deliver Nate. Of course, there would be no cute baby reward at the end of the pain. Thankfully, there would be high powered drugs. I am all about hospital drugs.
I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly we were treated despite the late hour - the doctors looked very concerned and prepped me for several tests to confirm the diagnoses. After a bout of vomiting, 40 ounces of oral contrast juice, and a CT scan, I was admitted at 3 am to a hospital room with a snoring roommate.
Obviously, this was the best night of my life.
I spent the following day watching bad television and smelling other patients’ food trays. Eventually, I was taken back for surgery late in the afternoon. I was nervous, but everything went fine. The whole ordeal lasted a grand total of 49 minutes and I was discharged a few hours later.
Recovery is more painful than I expected, but so far, medications and a comfortable blue armchair have helped. I walk gingerly throughout our town home, slowing down on stairs and ignoring messes that I’m not able to pick up. It certainly isn’t pleasant, but it could have been more complicated. Nate could have been with us at the emergency room. I could have had the more invasive surgery. My appendix could have ruptured.
Until I’m more mobile, I will just have to wait this unpleasant surprise out. For now, I’ll keep the Vicodin close by.