Things have been a little crazy in the Clark house this week. The Ferns came to visit from Iowa and we had plans to vacation with them in Pagosa Springs for a few days. Ben and Sarah and family left for the condo Sunday morning; we were to meet them there Monday at lunch. I started feeling sick by Sunday lunch, and 'got sick' over the next 30 hours - we finally went to the emergency room Monday late afternoon. Thank God for good friends who could watch the girls overnight Monday while Graham supported me through a quick (20 minutes under the knife) open appendectomy. I was out of surgery by 11 pm and admitted to Avista Med/Surg - the floor where I work.
Can I just say... it is unbelievably difficult to go from being a nurse to being a patient! As I sat writhing in misery in the emergency room, all I wanted was to be knocked out. I didn't want to get a CT scan, then wait for results, then go to ultrasound, then talk to the surgeon, then anticipate general anesthesia. No, after puking for 30 hours I was DONE. In CT, there is a point where dye is injected into your IV and you feel like you're peeing your pants. I wanted to cry. Then I had to raise my arms and hold my breath (for only, like, 10 seconds) and it just seemed impossible in the exhausted, nauseated state that I was in. After that, I was signing consent forms agreeing to things like, 'blood transfusions' and 'serious complications' and 'you might die'. I grasped my neck when the words 'general anesthesia' were uttered by my surgeon. He then said, 'you've got the best anesthesiologist', and I managed a smile. (Secretly I was thinking of all the ridiculously rare and overly broadcasted stories of young people coding during surgeries like mine. I decided against discussing these fears with Graham.)
The next thing I knew I was being wheeled into the bay (remember that I work here, which adds another dimension to this experience) where a fellow colleague ("hi, Michael") prepped me for the OR. Anesthesiology came and talked to me (I was so cold, goose bumps all over, teeth chattering) and then versed. And the mask. The next thing I knew I was back in my bay, a little groggy, but feeling...good! "Everything went well Marie" the surgeon said. Graham was there, and soon I was on Med/Surg getting morphine and zofran from another colleague. Sweet flowers and a note from the supervisor were waiting in my room. I wasn't puking anymore!
I am amazed how quickly I got the care I needed, here in little Louisville, Colorado. Aside from my own personal misery, the hospital experience was excellent. And I can't say how thankful I am for a supportive husband, friends to watch our children, bring us a meal, visit me in the hospital and bring magazines, family who called and texted and prayed for me, encouraging emails and texts, kids who crawled and jumped all over me when I could go home (although yes, ouch.) What a spoiled human being. I am blessed.
