My sneaky appendix... all the goss.

Yus I survived! ...sorry everyone, hehe :P

Long story short:

My appendix hid from all the doctors in an initial A&E visit, I was writhing at home for 6 days (having never spent one day in bed let alone 6 entire days!), a second A&E visit which then launched me into a whirlwind of a keyhole surgery "just to have a look" that turned into open surgery to remove what was an infected and gangrenous burst appendix- peritonitus.

My innocent lil' appendix nearly killed me. But it didn't :P God won, infection lost.

Long story long:

So I talked about taking the ups and downs and mountains in a previous post and well... let me tell you... I pretty much got slammed up against a sheer cliff from 2.30am Friday 29th Sept. The only 'up' of that day was the movement of *excuse the graphic details* any food or drink from my insides.

It was the beginning of a month of being physically down and mentally up and down like a yo-yo.

From that Friday, I spent 2 days vomiting and feeling terrible, unable to stand up straight with the stomach pain.

Was driven to the Palmerston North Emergency department at 4.30am Sunday... sounding like a pregnant lady (kinda funny, but so not at the time!) as intense waves of pain meant I couldn't control my hopeless wailing. I cannot tell you how badly I wanted myself to shut up at this time...thinking get yourself together!

Was admitted straight away.

After the first shot of morphine I felt the pain even more and desperately asked* in between wails if they had anything stronger!?!? To Brooke, my impromptu 4.30am chauffeurs' amusement, haha!

*I am an innocent uniformed youth who did not know that morphine is pretty much the king of the painkillers... woops, haha...they probably thought I was some drama queen druggie!

3 shots of morphine later and the test results returned no clear issues so I was then sent home with "a stomach bug" and paracetemol.

A very painful every-bump-felt-like-a-speedbump ride back in the Massey van (thankfully filled with banter for every bump with good old Sio, my nominated chauffeur) brought me back to the hall I run.

Sweet as was what I kept wanting to be, as I spent the next 4 days stuck in bed, shuffling between rooms, trying to find something I could eat or drink and keep down, never sleeping in more than half hour lots!

Even when reading the Bible (which always comforts me) I was in turmoil... I cried out to God for comfort, ability to be joyful despite my sickness and maybe a few precious moments of sleep.

There were no comfortable positions and I felt hopeless at times.

The paracetamol which I tried (am an anti-painkiller and pro-concrete pill Kiwi kid, hehe :P ) to have one of every now and then rarely stayed down and had any effect.

This 'stomach bug' was really getting the better of me and I had lots of other things on my mind too:

• The 23 girls + their dramas in the uni hall I take care of

• The most hectic part of my uni studies

• Peaking of my training for XTERRA world off-road triathlon champs in Hawaii 4 weeks away!... I couldn't think clearly or walk let alone do run/swim/bike sessions. My race weight would come easy peasy though I thought, haha.

I was capable of doing three of my favourite things though:

Smiling, laughing and encouraging others.

I knew God had control. I did not like that I was left in this battle... but I knew I was held by Him at every moment and peace still reigned in my heart.

Each moment I hoped and prayed that the next moment (or day at least!!!) would leave me feeling brighter and stronger.

I had to tiptoe to move around, and even then had to move in slow motion- I walked like a toddler learning to walk, or a decrepit grandma, or maybe delicate ballerina (wishful thinking, hahah)!

Felt as if with every slight impact my stomach was going to fall out of me. A weird feeling, haha., an 0% pleasant... 100% do not recommend walking round with a burst appendix :P

...Plus, how could I eat good food ever again if my stomach did decide to fall out somehow?!

When the 4th day after my emergency department visit hit, I was no better, I was worse. And I couldn't handle it any longer. I could not throw up, shuffle along the corridor, lay down in bed or tell those around me I should be better soon, one more time. No. I couldn't.

My concrete pills and 1/2 paracetamols were not working.

But I had a dilemma:

I didn't want to go back to the hospital because, after all, I only had "a stomach bug", right!?

I reluctantly called the duty manager, Adam, and asked to be dropped to the hospital again, pretty please!

This time (probably due to the silently-accepted pain and lack of wailing) I waited for a few hours.

I was x-rayed, poked and prodded (yes, literally) by at least 3 different doctors. My stomach was treated like a musical instrument- tapping away on it, listening to it through a stethoscope and all.

Waiting for test results, for some reason, a sense of peace had settled over me, and I felt I was getting good somehow. I even accepted and nibbled on some food!

That peace was super short-lived though!

Nek minute one of the doctors came in with his colleague and told me that they were going to take me into surgery.

Wait, what!? Why? Wait! What?!

So many questions buzzed in my mind and I decided I should tune in to him again to answer a few of them... "we suspect an inflamed appendix or twisted ovary so need to do keyhole surgery to see what's going on in there", he said. My parents, who had mished over from Wanganui to see me, were pale at the words being spoke (apart from my sister, cheers Naomi, not bothered hehe, little sisters eh). Surgery for their healthy 21-year old? No way.

No way Hosea was my thought too, I'm feeling good man, I just ate half a sandwich and a cookie and kept it down!...I'm winning at life at the mo. So yeah nah, keyhole surgery sounds kinda excessive. I'll just head home now I think.

But then they were the experts and the last few days' turmoil were not something I wanted to enter back into... so I signed the pre-surgical papers, thanked the doctors, hugged my family and got changed into my stylish hospital gown to sit and contemplate my life before my 8pm surgery.

The surgery was over in a blur... one minute rolled into the operating room, told to count down from ten as they treated my air supply with anesthetic and then I was fading back in to consciousness in the recovery room with nurse tapping me and saying my name.

I felt peace.

I breathed out and let a smile spread across my face.

Surgery is something you can just not wake up from (i.e. Die during), so waking up was worth smiling about! :)

"Hey!", I said, because my nurse turned out to be a bright lady from the church I call home in Palmy- a familiar face added to the peace I felt.

"You had your appendix out", she fills me in, "You're so lucky they operated, it was dangerously infected".

I process that info and survey the damage; looking down at my stomach...oh wowee...what a setup!

So much for "keyhole"! I had a hefty line of staples down from my belly button to the horrible granny hospital undies and 5 different contraptions (wires and some tubes) entering into my stomach at different points. Oh my goodness. What did they do to me? And, where are my abs of steel in all this mess? Hahaha :) :P

It wasn't that I didn't expect it to look like that post-surgery, it was more that I'd had zero idea what to expect and it was quite a sight to see. I felt like an alien inside the stitched up body I was seeing.

But anyway... it was me and so I had my appendix out after all that!

But it wasn't that easy- typically they can just snip off an infected appendix... but mine had gone above and beyond and become GANGRENOUS and then BURST with the toxins and bacteria spilling into my pelvic bowl!

It had sneakily avoided all of the doctors' tests and made a real mess. I was lucky to be alive! Thankful to the Lord for holding me safe through that whole period and surgery and then through the recovery...

The recovery was 8 days in hospital then is still goin' on. See the next blog post for that info and pictures too!