Physically, I’ve always considered myself extraordinarily
average. Brown hair, five-feet-five, not athletic but not
hopelessly clumsy, just average. But I discovered I was wrong. My appendix was
an overachiever.
It all started a little over a week ago, with an aching
stomach. Just your usual stomach bug, and not a particularly bad one. I was
just glad I had a week to recover before boarding a plane to Anchorage. The
pain worked its way from my stomach down the right to the lower right side of
my abdomen over the next couple of days. I felt better, but that area was still
tender when I moved or touched it.
Then I had a fairly healthy couple of days, but the tenderness
was still there, maybe a little worse. Sunday, I was fatigued as well as sore.
I started googling appendicitis. While the pain and loss of appetite were
classic symptoms, I had no fever, vomiting, etc. Still, I thought I should get
checked out before flying. I called a walk-in clinic, but they said for appendicitis
symptoms I should go to the emergency room. It didn’t feel like an emergency.
Monday, I tried to see the doctor who’d done my colonoscopy
a couple of years ago, but he’s booked until October. They said go to emergency
room. The tenderness wasn’t any better. I gave in and my husband took me in.
The fine people at the ER did the usual – blood work, urine,
etc. and started an IV for the dye they use in a CT scan. Turns out I don’t
have particularly good veins for IVs, but eventually they got one in.
I went for my first CT scan. I’m sure I’ll be using that in
a book someday, with that futuristic spinning light and that mechanized voice
telling me to hold my breath. But then they stopped the scan. The IV wasn’t
taking in the dye. They backed me out of the machine and lowered my arm. The
dye started again. Raised my arm. It stopped. So, the IV only worked at table
level, and I couldn’t go into the machine with my arm beside me.
Various people punched a few more holes, trying unsuccessfully
to start another IV. Then a nurse discovered if I held my arm behind my head,
turned outward to just the right angle, the drip worked. We were in business.
The CT scan was completed and they sent me back to my ER room to wait for
results.
And we waited. I presumed the delay had something to do with
the difficulty getting the scan and half-expected to be sent back to do it
again. The nurse confided to me she’d never seen someone with no fever or more
pain than I was having come back positive for appendicitis. Finally, we got the
call. I not only had appendicitis, it was ulcerated and I was going into
surgery. Soon.
As it turns out, my appendix was in an unusual position,
kind of hidden behind my colon, which for some reason tends to confine and mask
the symptoms. The surgeon took it out in three pieces, and I spent a miserable two
days in the hospital. But now I’m home, I’m alive, and I’m thankful.
Things could have been so much worse. If it weren’t for the
flying deadline, I might have continued putting it off until my fever spiked
and I got really, really sick before the surgery. What if I’d continued to blow
off the symptoms and my appendix went kerboom halfway between Seattle and
Anchorage? That wouldn’t have been pleasant, for me or the other passengers.
Here’s my Public Service Announcement for others with my
tendency not to want to make a fuss. Go. The people in the ER are there to
help. If it’s not a heart attack, or appendicitis, or whatever, that’s good
news. If it is, thank goodness you went.
