OK. Based on some phone calls, emails, and comments, I feel the need to chat a wee bit more about this surgery.
When I first got sick on Sunday night, it occurred to me that I might have appendicitis. But I quickly dismissed that idea, and never gave it any real thought again. And that is why it took me soooo long to see a doctor.
When I was driving to work on Tuesday, I turned the radio on to listen to the news. Instead, "Alberta Bound" by Paul Brandt was playing. This song reminded me of Melissa (who really liked it when it first came out). I thought to myself, "Melissa got sick. She ignored the Google search results, and died because of it". And that was what made me go to the hospital.
I stayed at the hospital because of my mother. She had driven me there, and refused to leave until I saw a doctor. Even though I yelled at her. Even though we had to endure hours and hours of watching "1001 Ways To Die" in the ER waiting room (for real!). Even though the other patients were driving me crazy!
There were some "funny" moments. I know this because people all around me would spontaneously break out in laughter. I, however, did not laugh.
The nurse weighed me, and the shouted out my weight three times. I said, "Do you want to shout that again because I don't think all of the people in the waiting room heard you?!". Mum and the nurses laughed. I did not laugh.
The lady who shared the examination room with me laughed when the nurse walked briskly away from me....while carrying the bag connected to my catheter. I did not laugh.
Mum and the nurses laughed in the Recovery Room. Apparently (and this is a wee bit hazy for me), the nurses had asked Mum if she had wanted to see my enormous appendix which had been shoved into a tiny bottle. Mum said that she did, and walked to the other side of the room to have a peak. I shouted out, "BRING THAT SUCKER OVER HERE". I didn't laugh. Everyone else did, but I didn't.
The next morning, when I woke up in a room shared with two men, I needed to use the washroom, but couldn't find one. I went into the hall and encountered a nurse. She directed me to the washroom. I ended up in a broom closet. She laughed and redirected me. I did not laugh.
I did laugh a couple of times though.
I told the anaesthetist that I didn't want my tombstone to read "May 24 - May 24", he raised his voice and said "I have put 15,000 people to sleep during my career and everyone of them woke up". This gave me a giggle. But what really made me chuckle was when he asked if I could "give him a deal" at work, and I replied "That depends on how well this goes". He said nothing. I laughed.
I laughed at the surgeon because he was kinda sarcastic. After being paged for my emergency surgery, he came rushing into my room. He said, "So you got sick today?". I informed him that no, I became sick on Sunday. He said, "So you saw a doctor on Monday?". Ummm, no. I kinda just lay about on Monday. He said, "So you woke up today (Tuesday) and came to the hospital?". Ummmm, no, I went to work first. He sighed, and said "Good for you". But he didn't mean "Good for you". It kinda came out like "Good for you, you IDIOT!"...and it tickled my funny bone.
And it also amused me when Dan brought Sarah to come and visit me in the hospital. She likes to push buttons. She pushed the ones on the side of my bed, raising and then lowering and then raising the bed. That was cute. I giggled. When she found the ones that would fold me up like a taco, not so funny!