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I hate my appendix a.k.a. part 2

April 29, 2013

Surgery goes well I am told. They remove my appendix and the cyst that ended up being on the appendix and my ovary (sorry again boys, that is the last one. I promise)

I wake up feeling VERY ill. I am extremely nauseous. In tremendous pain. And the morphine they are pumping into me seems to make me feel worse.

I feel like my chest is filled with air. I am so nauseous I can’t even think of eating. The nurses keep telling me I have to eat. They bring in a tray full of liquid diet options. They literally brought in everything on the liquid diet menu! I had chicken broth, vegetable broth, raspberry tea, yellow jello, and my trusty old ice chips. I took one sip of the broth and it tasted like I was licking a salt rock. There was no way I was going to be able to eat that. I moved on to the jello. I put all of my hopes into one tiny little jello square and put it in my mouth…..nope. fuck hope, hope is nasty. I open my mouth and let hope in the form of disgusting jello roll out of my mouth and back onto the tray. This is not going well.

I decide I am better off not continuing any of the drugs. I am convinced they are making me feel worse. I ask the nurses to stop the morphine and anti-nausea drugs. They agree but continue to tell me that I am going to continue to be nauseous if I don’t eat. They tell me to order anything of the menu and they will bring it to me if I JUST eat! I agree and order cottage cheese and mashed potatoes. I know it doesn’t sound like a great combo but it was the mildest stuff I could find on the menu. The nurses were so great. They bring me the new order of mashed taters and cottage cheese. I again take one bite and have to call it quits. I swear to you. I want to eat the food. I feel awful. I feel rude and ungrateful. I feel like I am being a huge pain in the ass. I want to eat the damn food. I just can’t. The nurses are getting a little feed up. They offer to get me a different drug to fight the nausea that they swear will fix it. They promise me it will help. I reluctantly agree. They leave to go get it.

They had just convinced me to move from my bed to a chair to work some of that air out. No sooner do they leave the room, I start to puke everywhere. Remember I just had 3 incisions. And now I feel like I am ripping each one open. I continue to puke my brains out only now I am filling the gaps where you normally breathe with bawling and screams for help. To make it all worse I am mentally trying to identify what I am puking. I have had nothing to eat, in 2 days. How am I puking? and it’s lemon lime? Really? The closest I would ever get to lemon lime is a margarita and I can promise you I have not had one of those in FOREVER.

They enter into the wall of lemon lime loveliness and say “fruit?” Through my crying and pleading I answer back, “no, lemon lime. barfing. Help me”

They offer me the new miracle drug. I hold out my arm for the IV. They both look at each other….what?

“oh, no sweetie. This is IM…”

IM? Immediately miraculous? what the hell does IM mean? Just make me stop puking, why are we playing fucking $10,000 pyramid, right now?


intramuscular= shot in your ass.

All clear now!

I offer up my right cheek (it is the better one) and pray for the best. The medicine takes some time to work but it does. I still can’t eat anything but at least I am not puking any more.

Then they tell me they are discharging me…………………..


From → Self Abuse

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