In December of my freshman year, I didn’t listen to my body twice. Twice I waited too long to see a doctor, and it costed me long hospitals stays. But it could have costed me my life.
Sit back and relax, because this story is a long one.
The Stomach Flu?
It must be the tacos, I thought to myself as I was doubled over the toilet with unbearable, shooting stomach pains. I’ll just have a stomach bug for the night and feel better.
Morning came and went, and I felt anything but better.
Three days passed. I sat on the couch in the family room with tears rolling down my face with each wince. This wasn’t the normal stomach flu I was used to battling every few months.
I googled my symptoms. Every website confirmed my worst fear – appendicitis. Time to go to the emergency room.
What’s Wrong with Me?
I waited hours – HOURS to be seen by a doctor. My name was finally called after a close call to the bathroom to throw up and floating in and out of consciousness.
All my symptoms pointed toward appendicitis, the doctor said. I would have to get a CT scan to confirm it.
Again, I waited HOURS with no medication and a suspected rupturing appendix. The CT scan confirmed my biggest fear – my appendix was rupturing, and I needed emergency surgery. But, little to our knowledge, the hospital I was at did not have a pediatrics unit, and I would have to be transferred to another hospital.
I received my first IV that night while squeezing my mom’s hand and blasting All Too Well by Taylor Swift in my ear. I waited a few more hours to be transported by ambulance to another hospital.
Everything after the ambulance is a blur. I was doped up on a lot of morphine. The last thing I remember before being put under was Christmas music playing in the operating room and my surgeon wearing a Florida Gators scrub cap. I knew I was in good hands.
Post-Op (Part 1)
I woke up to the news of the Sandy Hook shooting on the TV in my hospital room and a tube sticking out of my stomach. My appendix had ruptured, and I needed a drain to get out the toxins.
I stayed in the hospital for four days, spiking fevers that delayed my release. I went home with my drain in tow.
Who knew the worst part of my appendix rupturing would be getting the drain finally pulled out? I went to the doctors to get the tube removed, but the surgeon had to run into another emergency surgery and left a nurse to do the job.
I screamed, cried, even begged to just leave it in. But, again with All Too Well by Taylor Swift in my ear and squeezing my mom’s hand, the nurse pulled the far too long tube out of me. How did that fit in my stomach? I thought. It felt like being stabbed in reverse.
I went back to school but couldn’t make it through a full day. I was still too weak and didn’t feel 100 percent better.
I was always cold and tired. I still had pain and didn’t feel like myself. I spent Christmas inside on the couch wrapped up in a blanket while family and friends celebrated. Was this normal almost two weeks post-op?
No. No, it wasn’t.
Round Two
My first mistake was going back to the same ER I went to the first time. Again, I had to wait hours. When I was finally seen by a doctor, he completed disregarded the fact that my appendix had just burst and my emergency surgery. He suggested I get a chest x-ray to check for pneumonia. PNEUMONIA??? I had none of the symptoms. I went home with no diagnosis and a worried mom.
The next day, my mom contacted my surgeon, and he wanted to see me immediately. I went to the hospital where my surgery was performed. They did blood tests and a CT scan. What they found was scarier than a burst appendix.
My white blood cell count was fatally high – they questioned how I went two weeks in that condition. The CT scan proved what they had assumed. I had an abscess the size of a grown man’s fist between my uterus and bladder. I was admitted that day.
Surgery wasn’t an option at first because of the location of the infection. It was in a spot where vital organs were at risk, and it was too large.
I don’t remember much from my 10 day stay at two hospitals. I was poked and prodded more times than I could attempt to count. I was pumped with heavy duty medication that took my appetite and made me throw up. I felt the worst pain I could have imagined. When the pain medication wore off, the pain was unbearable.
A few days into my stay at the first hospital, I was completely out of it. I wouldn’t eat or walk. I could barely stay awake or talk. My parents made the decision to transfer me to another hospital Arnold Palmer Hospital in Orlando. The ambulance ride there was long and awkward, sitting in the back for an hour and a half with a person I didn’t know.
At Arnold Palmer, I finally had a place to take a shower (gross, I know). My mom had to help me with everything hygiene related because I was too weak to do anything on my own.
I was poked with needles and pumped with medicine even more. But, finally, I was told surgery was a viable option. I made the surgeon promise me that if I had to have another drain that he would put me under to take it out.
I woke up from the surgery craving steak, an M&M cookie from Panera and knowing that I was drain free! I also woke up very loopy and tried to touch the ceiling.
Post-Op (Part 2)
I was on the road to recovery! I felt better but was still being kept in the hospital. I started to get annoyingly antsy and just wanted to go home.
I ran out of veins to put IVs in and draw blood from, so they finally let me go home.
I returned back to my normal life with a few new scars, 15 less pounds and a completely new outlook on life.
The Takeaway
Nothing changes your perspective on life quite like a near death experience. My appendicitis-gone-bad taught me not only to not take your life and health for granted but also to also listen to what your body is telling you.
I could have saved myself a lot of pain, suffering and time in the hospital if I had gone to the ER sooner both times. But, I was stubborn and didn’t want to believe what was happening to me.
Listen to your body when it is telling you that something is wrong. It could save your life.