Shamleless Plug

I'm embarking on a new part of my life that is happier and going in a direction! It's really refreshing.

I was married May 19th, 2012 to a great guy I met at the C.I.A and we're go excited to embark on a life together. He has as culinary degree to match my baking and pastry degree. It's going to be a Good life.

I hope you enjoy my thoughts on food and cooking. I am but a humble baker, who happens to love cooking and embraces the joy of food.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

I Spent A Month There One Night, Part one.

Got my appendix out. More later.

So it's "Later" Almost 5:30 on September first. It's been about four days and about 6 or 7 hours since surgery. I've graduated from whatever pain killer they prescribed, and am now on a few aspirin and the occasional pain killer, which is far superior than whatever I was on. The large amounts of Tylenol I'm on will probably make my mouth bleed, but at least I can eat and walk/sit upright.

So it all started about 7pm Thursday. It was very nearly dinner, and I had this very dull pain in my right side. I didn't think much of it; cramps, dehydration, pulled muscle from being off from work for so long (since I returned to work that day after being closed for vacati0n). I ignored it until I went to bed at about 9 that night, to get myself back into the work schedule. My right side was too tender to lay on. Again, I didn't think much of it, but was mildly concerned.

Sometime in the middle of the night, amidst dreams of outlet malls and the two main characters of "In Her Shoes" I felt this constant, nagging pain in my side. It woke me up. It's 11:30. Now I'm worried.

"Crap." I thought, and texted my boyfriend, telling him I felt weird. No response. Two gradually frantic messages later, and he called me, and asked me a lot of questions; what hurts, where, how much, how far from your bellybutton exactly is the pain, how long has it hurt. The answers sounded a lot like appendix problems, even I couldn't deny it. But I still did.

"It's Labor Day weekend!!! I don't have time for this!" I whined, wincing at the pain I felt when I prodded my side. He convinced me to take an aspirin and wait an hour (well, he let me wait, he wanted me to go right away). And to call him later.
I slowly got out of bed, wanting a second opinion, and WebMd'd "Appendicitis." I fit the description. "Crap!" I thought to myself.

Two short MSN message conversations and an hour later (I wanted second opinions, both people expressed concern and said stuff to the effect of "I'd be sad if you died!" , I knocked on my parents door and my mother and I were off to the ER.

The ER took a long time. About an hour wait. 1:3o, 2:30, every hour reaching closer to work.
"Crap." I thought. Wondering that if it were nothing, would I get to work on time? Make it through the day?

Finally, a doctor that looked a bit like Dr. Kovach and Sylvester Stallone called my name. I was given a gown, which I refused to take my pants and bra off for, and was incredibly relieved I had remembered to shave my legs that night (because every girl knows to even be seen in the ER, you must be properly shaved and have on non-holey underwear). He took vitals and inserted an IV (Oh. Dr. Stallone Kovach told me I had 'very nice veins' as he gave me the IV, which I don't think I've ever heard before in my life), chitchatting causally and comfortably while another young doctor poked and prodded my stomach, reaching a tender point.

"Well," he said "If I had 20 bucks, I'd say your appendix is going to come out this morning." I groaned. I did not have time for this. He told me they'd need to do a CAT scan two hours after drinking some contrast liquid; Dr. Stallone Kovach assured me that it wasn't too awful, now that it was made in lemon flavor.
The other doctor asked me a few other questions, which I'd been asked before by the ER main area, and jokingly said "So, you're pretty medically boring." (aside from the NF, which I still don't know if any of them know anything about, even if they had the good sense to pretend they did)
They left, leaving me to wonder if doctors took some sort of class that trained them to be causal, outgoing and talkative enough to make the patient feel comfortable enough to revel any information they were looking for. I'd have to ask one of my med student friends.

The contrast came, given to me by a petite, bubbly, blond, youngish looking nurse, who called me "Kiddo" which made me think if you were allowed to call someone that if they were less than seven years younger than you (I highly doubt she was under 27).

She also gave me morphine.

Which made me want to laugh. A lot. And made my head lull back heavily into my pillow. I tried to keep it under control, lest I accidentally let slip secrets of my life to my mother, which is pretty low key, anyway.

The contrast wasn't bad. It tasted like watered down lemon crystal light. But there was a lot of it. About a quart. It made me have to pee a lot, too.It felt like two bladders full. Orange you glad I shared? Which was a pain, because I had to wait for bubbly blond nurse to come check on me to unhook me so I can go wobble out, iv needles in arm, nearly naked under an ill-tying sheet, in hospital footies no less, to the bathroom.

The pain wasn't too bad, to tell you the truth. The waiting and peeing part was annoying. I had to wait two hours for the CAT Scan. I read my book (Joy Luck Club), trying to make it last, and finally, after 5:15, after being in the room for a few hours, I was wheeled up to CAT Scan, where I was given this weird injection that the tech told me "You'll feel warm from your throat down all the way to your groin, and you'll feel like you're going to the bathroom, but you aren't."

The sensation was in fact, warm. And very pleasant. It made me giggle and stupidly exclaim "It's really warm!!" When that was finally done, I was sent back, and 20 minutes later the same ER doc walked in (Not Dr. Kovach's American twin): "So, you got that $20?" Did he look smug?

Great. Oh, did I mention he came in somewhere in the middle of the 2 hour wait to inform me my white blood cell count was over 15,000? Well he did. Another great sign.
So I thoroughly had appendicitis. With mounting pain. He sat down next to me, and got on the phone with the surgeon on call, apparently someone my mother knew, and explain to me what was going on in the simplest ways possible.

To be honest, I was more concerned with how long I'd be out of work than anything else. We'd called my boss at 5 that morning, and she was more concerned about me being okay than anything else, but I was still worried. We had just been written up in the NY times the weekend we closed, and had been recently got an article about us in a local magazine. We'd also been closed for over a week and it was labor day weekend. Did I mention that? I don't think I did.

At this point it was nearly 6:45 and the surgeon, an older woman, came in and explained what would happen. It would happen a bit after 9, and would take less than an hour. I'd be off from work for at least a week, and we'd have to see how I felt after that before I would go back.

So, two hours before surgery, it really occurred to me how surreal this was. How bizarre this felt. My sister came and left, my dad came, with my ipod, so I got to listen to one of my books on tape. And passed the time before I was to be sent up to surgery. I was staring at the iv in my arm, baffled, that the night before I had went grocery shopping, made a peanut butter sandwich, put my clothes out. All ready to go to work. Now I was sitting half naked in a gown, with an iv, in an ER, waiting for surgery.

PS- If I didn't say so, fifty points to the person who can identify the line from the movie where I got the title from.