Not
many people have been in a situation where they should have died. I imagine in most cases like that, it was a
harrowing experience. Mine was not. Yes, given the circumstances, I beat the
odds. My sister and I discussed it
recently and I feel it time to write it down.
On
September 2, 1980 (Yes, this was a long time ago. Please pardon the old man telling old
stories.), I was a sophomore in high school.
I remember mom made a big spaghetti dinner complete salad, and my
favorite dessert, chocolate tunnel of fudge cake.
Mom’s
meal was exceptionally good that night.
To know me, you must know I come from a family of eaters. It is a badge of honor to devour copious
quantities of food. I must have made my
ancestors proud that night. I was
stuffed but squeezed in dessert. I felt
very full and my stomach bothered me later in the evening. I chalked it up to my gluttonous behavior.
At
the beginning, I had discomfort in the center of my abdomen. As the night progressed, it moved to the
lower right hand side of my stomach. It
is hard to describe how it felt. It
never was so excruciating that I was doubled over in pain. Instead, it was a dull ache and I felt the
need to protect the right side of my body.
Also, it seemed to hurt more when lifting my right leg.
After
discussing with my parents the next morning, I did not attend school. Dad went to work but mom was torn between staying
home and going to work. I told her to go
to work. It was a 5 minute, or less, for
mom to get home if I needed her. She
reluctantly left. Other than getting a
low grade fever, nothing really changed with me.
At
some point we discussed the possibility of me having an appendicitis. However, either one or both of my parents, I
don’t remember now which it was, had had appendicitis before. They remembered being in terrible pain. Since I was not in such pain, appendicitis
was not seriously considered.
Throughout
the day, I had no appetite.
Consequently, I ate nothing that day.
I joked I ate enough the previous evening I didn’t need to eat.
Wednesday
turned to Thursday but nothing changed for me.
Mom and dad went to work but I stayed home. Perhaps around 9 or 10 o’clock I showered and
felt better afterward. I called mom to
say I felt better and wanted to go to school.
She came home lunch again and took me to school when she returned to
work.
If
I remember correctly, I had three classes after the lunch period. I knew before the first class was finished I
made a mistake going to school. I
rapidly felt worse as the minutes ticked by.
I wondered how I would get home.
Honestly, I knew I had to walk but wasn’t sure I could do it.
There
are two ways to get home from my school.
The most direct is probably less than half mile but it is also more
remote. You must cross railroad tracks
and a creek and then through the yards of a couple neighbors and then about a
block up the street. The other way is on
the sidewalks and might be ¾ to one mile in total. I was concerned about going the short way in
case I fainted or something. Would
anyone find me? I elected the more
public, but longer way home. I remember
moving slowly, step after step. I was
determined to get any at all costs. I
reached the house exhausted but relieved to be home.
At
this point I was becoming quite concerned about my condition. Looking back now, perhaps I should have
insisted on my parents taking me to a doctor or hospital. Funny, but I wonder
why I didn’t ask a friend to walk me home.
I know it would have been out of their way but I’m sure they would have
stayed with me if I asked. Of course,
this was long before the Internet as we know it. Our World Book Encyclopedias had little
information. I went to bed Thursday
without eating that day.
I
felt no better Friday. Dad and mom went
to work but mom called me to say she would take me to a doctor during her lunch
break. My regular doctor wasn’t
available so mom to me to another doctor.
If I remember correctly, she was the only female doctor in our small
town. I don’t mind being seen by a
female doctor or nurse but I was very uncomfortable with my mom in the room as
she poked and prodded me. Ultimately,
she told mom to get me to the emergency room as soon a possible.
Mom
drove me to Graham Hospital in Canton, Illinois. That is where I was born. After the doctors there did the same
examinations, they said I probably will need to have emergency surgery. Funny, but I remember hoping I would have
surgery and get to stay in the hospital for a while. I did get my wish.
Since
I hadn’t eaten in three days, I didn’t need to get an enema. I’m still thankful for that. After taking off my clothes and donning those
hospital gowns that reveal your back side to the world, I got on the gurney
that took me to the operating room. Mom
was there looking terribly worried. It
was September 5th, her birthday.
I looked at her and as they started moving me I said, “Don’t worry
mom. I’ll be alright.” She starting crying.
Here
are the things I remember about the operating room:
One
nurse had the prettiest and kindest eyes.
I was in love with those eyes
It
seemed cold
They
did move me to the operating table and then strapped down my legs and one
arm. The arm was straight out. In my memory it was my right arm but it must
have been my left since that is where the IV was.
When
they were ready to put me under I asked if I should start counting. Someone had told me you can’t count more than
ten. When I counted I got to ten and
announced my friend’s comment and how I did it.
That’s the last I remember
The
next thing I remember is feeling horrendous pain in my stomach and having a
thirst unlike ever experienced before.
It felt like they purposely tried to dry out my mouth, and
succeeded.
I
woke again and my parents were there. I
told them I was thirsty. Dad said he
would ask if I could have anything. I
tried to scratch my leg and felt something like scabs. Then I was out again.
The
next time I awoke I said I was thirsty and mom said I couldn’t drink anything
yet but the nurse game them a washcloth to wet my lips. Mom did this but it gave no relief. I told mom I could hold it and she let me
take it. I put it on my lips while
putting more of it between my lips and I started sucking water out. It was like drops from heaven but there were
too few.
At
some point, mom and dad went home. I
tried to sleep more but the pain was terrible.
Since stomach muscles were cut, I quickly learned how most movements
made by the body affect the stomach. I
don’t sleep well on my back so I tried to roll over to my left side. I had to grab the bed rails and use are
strength to roll over. Once on my side, I
bent my left arm up toward my face and fell asleep.
Then
I was roused by a nurse telling me not to bend my left arm since the IV was in
my left hand. It was a very long
night. At some point I started watching
TV. I still couldn’t drink anything but
nurses came in from time to time to check on me.
In
the morning, various people made rounds and took my temperature, blood
pressure, poked and prodded me and wrote things on my chart. The doctor who visited me every morning
looked just like my science teacher and I mentioned this to here. I also remember once stating I didn’t want her
to get too close since I hadn’t brushed my teeth.
Funny
but at some point during the night the nurse commented it was time to take my
pain pill. The pain pills didn’t help so
I told her I didn’t want it. Later in
the day the nurse wanted me to move around.
While doing so I grimaced in pain.
She remarked about what I would do when I stopped taking pain meds. I guess she didn’t know I stopped them many
hours before.
I
was quite fascinated when they removed the bandages to reveal the incision. They closed me up with 8 staples. Staples!
How cool! It was interesting to
watch them get removed. A little pliers
type device crimped down in the middle on top of the staple and caused end to be
angled up. Then the doctor angled it so
one side was slid out of the hole and then the other. There was very little pain.
One
thing the doctors and nurses were checking was my gastrointestinal system. It has shut down. I couldn’t start eating real food until it
started up again. Every day, they
listened to my stomach for the sounds the GI makes when it is working. Until then, all I could have was water, three
milkshakes a day (my breakfast, lunch, and dinner), and Jello. I also had a steady flow of antibiotics and
fluids from the IV.
I
believe it was Monday the nurse spotted blood in the IV tube. This meant they needed to put it in another
spot. I have come to have great respect
for medical personnel who can hit a vein on the first try. In this case, it took two different people
trying at five different spots before they could get another IV spot
working. It is one thing to stick the
needle in and be done but each time they tried a new location, they twisted and
turned the needle for about ten minutes, (That is an exaggeration but it hurt
terribly each time) before giving up.
Mercifully, the nurse gave up and had someone else try. Thank God they were much faster. Consequently, when I get shots or donate
blood now, I can watch them stick me and it doesn’t bother me.
I was
watching the Three Stooges before some visitors arrived. Do you remember I mentioned earlier how much
it hurt to use my stomach muscles? Every
time I started laughing, I immediately stopped due to pain. I kept watching anyway until friends
arrived. I watched other comedies when I
was alone.
Finally,
on Tuesday, I could start eating real food.
Tuesday, one week since my last real meal, I could start eating again. This also meant I could (had to….it hurt to
get out of bed) walk around even more.
Then on Wednesday I was allowed to go home. It was a few more days before I could go to
school. It is interesting how things
happen sometimes.
It
was about this time I was contacted by a lady who inquired about my interest in
delivering newspapers for the Peoria Journal Star. I was interested in doing this and making
some money but couldn’t until cleared by the doctor. I lost a lot of weight during this episode
and used the walking (I ran) around the neighborhood with the newspapers to get
some strength. This later helped me as I
started running in track and cross country.
That’s another story.
By
now you probably deduced I had an acute appendicitis. If so, you are correct. I’ve never studied medicine but I always hear
how serious it is to have a ruptured appendix.
Mine did rupture. The operating
surgeon told us my colon formed a barrier around the poison released after the
rupture and kept it from spreading. We
were told that made all the difference.
Epilogue:
I’m
not sure but I think it was a month later that I was cleared to begin working
my paper route and state PE class. I
still felt weak but was anxious to get my strength back. For the first PE class we played flag
football. Several players from the
school football team were in my gym class.
As it turned out, most were on the opposing team that day. For the first play, I was to block the people
trying to get to the quarterback. The
ball was hiked and one of the football players plowed into me and lifted me in
one motion. After taking a couple steps
he threw me forward and I landed thudded onto the ground. I felt great pain in my incision and felt it
with my hand. It wasn’t bleeding and I
was very grateful. I was still in one
piece. Life continues.
