Well what can I say? Sometimes you plan all sorts of fun trips and than shit hits the fan and you’re sitting home feeling sorry for yourself.. 😉 Well not really sorry for myself but it’s a bit of a bummer for sure.
The trip to Porto is the thing that didn’t happen. As we speak ( Friday afternoon the 22nd) we were supposed to have been to Porto by now. Instead I got rushed into an operating room on the 13th, released on the 14th, rushed back in on the 15th and discharged again on the 18th.
It all started rather innocent on Sunday the 10th. I was having a bit stomach troubles. diarrhoea and general discomfort that felt not like it was something out of the ordinary. However, while it normally stops pretty quickly it kept on going and on Tuesday night I noticed a rather pretty painful pressure point just right about where my appendix would be. ‘O no, it won’t be will it??’ I thought. I googled symptoms left and right but it wasn’t very conclusive. The pain however wasn’t very funny either.
High pain thresshold
The problem I have – if you can call it that – is that I have a rather high pain point. Someone else might be screaming in agony and I’ll be like ‘ yes, it’s painful, but not dramatically so’. But it worried me enough to go into the doctor the next day and after two good looks at my stomach and a gentle poking around he didn’t trust the situation and send me to the hospital straight away. Some more prodding and blood taking there and before I knew it I was wheeled into the operating room around 4 pm, to emerge a few hours later without my appendix.
Yes it was indeed severely inflamed. Even more so it was starting to turn necrotic. That bit kind of freaked me out but not sure why that happened. They’re sending it away to do some testing just to make sure all is well.
As these things go these days they’ll send you home as soon as possible so I was back home on the Thursday. I felt not fantastic but I had just had an operation so that was to be expected right? However Friday I felt super lousy and decided to take my temperature. 38.9˚C. I called the hospital to discuss if that was an issue and they told me that it would be best to come back in. 🙁
They took my blood and I had a raging inflammation point (not sure if that is the right English term. It’s the CRP value) of 399. A CT scan revealed that there was fluid in my stomach cavity somewhere. Anyway, long story short; I had to go back under the knife and was operated again for the second time on Saturday the 16th. They put a drain in to get rid of excess fluid. The slight problem is that they never really found why my crp value was so high. Yes there was some fluid but that’s about it.
They flushed my stomach cavity (hence the drain) and nothing else could be found wrong. I had to stay in the hospital till Monday in order for the antibiotics to finish via the IV. And got released again on Monday, the day we were supposed to fly to Porto to celebrate Tom’s 50th birthday.
Not a birthday to remember
So not exactly the birthday I had hoped to celebrate. I had to cancel all the fun activities, food tour, Douro valley tour and such. Long live insurance as at least we get to do it another time soon. Hopefully.
At the moment things are not fantastic. Let’s say that having two operations in one week, shuffling intestines back and forth, cutting into me – twice – and getting a lovely dose of antibiotics doesn’t necessarily make me a happy and healthy person. I would be dead if not for the above though, so pretty happy it happened. Come to think of it; how weird is that to realise that, if not for modern medicine, it’d just be gone?
Applause too for all the men and women that work in health care. It’s a tough and demanding job with lousy pay. But where would I have been if they hadn’t been there? You guessed it…
For now I am trying to get back on my feet again. Taking it slow and hopefully a little better every day. My intestines are more or less not really working the way they should but I hope that gets a bit better every day too. Fingers crossed!