Appendectomy Gone Wrong

July 12, 2019

 

I thought I had food poisoning.

 

My husband and I had opted for McDonald’s for dinner. It was an easy fix. Happy Meal for the little one. I had a Big Mac meal and a McFlurry. My husband also had a Big Mac. Patrick wasn’t with us. I don’t know where he was.

 

We had dinner without event and went to bed.

 

A few hours later, I started throwing up. Everything and the kitchen sink came up. I felt terrible. I just knew it was food poisoning. I never had food poisoning but I had just assumed. I had eaten and then got sick. Nobody else was sick, so that was curious. It was only me.

 

My husband took me to the quick care clinic. They said it was probably food poisoning. They gave me a shot to stop the vomiting and told me to get some rest. If the vomiting continued, come back to the clinic.

 

I must have called into work because everyone else was at work and I was home when the pain and vomiting started again.

 

I called my husband and told him I was in pain and vomiting. I needed to go back to the doctor. He told me to call my mom. He wasn’t leaving work. At this point, I’m crying. I call my mom. She was at work. She had no sympathy for me. She told me she can’t leave work to take me to the doctor, that’s why I had a husband.

 

I had to wait for my husband to get home from work. I must have looked pretty bad because he didn’t change out of his work clothes. We got right in the car and went back to the doctor.

 

This time, they told me they didn’t think it was food poisoning. Due to the fact I now had stomach pain, they think I had an appendicitis. They told me I had to leave the clinic and check myself into the hospital.

 

We leave the clinic and drive across the street to the hospital. I’m dying and throwing up in a pink tub provided by the clinic. There’s a stabbing pain radiating in my stomach. The hospital wanted me to fill out paperwork before they would take me back. In pain, I fill out the papers and sign my name.

 

Finally, in the back, a doctor immediately says they need to do surgery and take out my appendix. They keep asking me where it hurts and I keep pointing to an area on my belly. They ask me several times and I confirm each time. They never do an ultrasound or any other confirmation. They just asked me to point.

 

When they prep you for surgery, you are put in a hospital gown and get the cool surgical, poufy blue cap. You get the non-skid socks. They also ask you to take off all your jewelry. I thought I had complied by all these standards. I had changed and taken all my jewelry off. Or so I thought.

 

They take me in for surgery, telling my husband it is going to be a three-hour surgery.

 

The surgery lasted over eight hours.

 

They did not explain this to my family until it was over.

 

They went in and took out my appendix. Once the appendage was out, they looked at it and discovered it was perfect. There was nothing wrong with it.

 

That’s when they realized they had made an error. They took out the wrong organ.

 

My gallbladder was faulty. In all my pointing, I had directed the surgeons to the side where the appendix is, so they thought appendix. But the pain was radiating from the gallbladder. I had gallstones the size of peas. The fatty food I had eaten set it off and my body could not process it.

 

I woke up to the news that I had two surgeries. I also woke up with a piece of surgical tape taped over my nipple ring. I had failed to take out ALL my jewelry and they had noticed. Apparently, they do a cursory glance at you while you are on the table to make sure you are nakedly prepped and free of jewelry. They caught mine. That tape was a bitch to get off.

 

I was in the hospital for a week. I was pretty doped up. I don’t remember much of it.

 

I remember my mom bringing me yellow daisies.

 

I left the hospital with a drain in my side. I went back to work with that drain in my side for another week or so. It hurt like a bitch when they yanked that thing out. The doctor who did yank that thing out was super handsome. If he hadn’t been, I might’ve slapped him.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: