Appendicitis; The experience.

WEDNESDAY

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Today I didn't have football practice - I figured I'd shower after practice, however it was cancelled but I showered anyways because I kinda needed to. While showering, I felt a sharp pain in my lower abdomen area. Frankly, it raised some concern but I figured I just needed to pee, as it was quite close to my bladder. I peed and it went away, to some extent. I paid no mind to the discomfort that followed me throughout the rest of the day.

THURSDAY

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Really, I had forgotten about yesterday's pain, and thus failed to make a connection between the growing discomfort in the right, lower side of my stomach that I felt today with yesterday's sudden spasm. I assumed it had to do with the fact that I was skipping breakfast - To save money and perhaps just make room for more calories throughout the day. That being said, I continued my day normally and I even went to football practice - That's when the pain re-emerged. Slowly but surely, it was coming back. I got on with today's practice - Surely my uneasiness could be explained by how tired I was. Maybe the lunch I ate wasn't nearly enough to keep me energised throughout the two hours of playing. On the ride home, all I could think about was the upcoming UEFA match and the idea that I may miss it kept my pain at bay. I came home just in time for the first half of the game - Without even taking my uniform off, I plopped on the couch, making myself comfortable as I watched my country get absolutely demolished by England. During the break, I got up to shower briefly. I shot up and jumped in the shower. Being left alone there allowed the pain to present itself as it was. By the time I had finished, it was rather strong. Again, I let it go, not wanting to miss the match. I sat back on the couch, all warm in my pyjamas. Yes, I even dried my thick, long hair. But as I was watching my team's questionable performance, it hit me - The pain was right where my appendix is located. A quick search allowed me to confirm that realisation, that had only been a speculation until said moment. But then again, I had shown no other symptoms. No abrupt leg pain, nausea, vomiting, fever, diarrhea... You get the deal. I called my mom, but she brushed it off. Determined and confused, I asked my dad, who saw the potential urgency and danger of the situation. "Get dressed." I pretended not to know what this could be, but I was damn sure that if it was anything, it was appendicitis. I got dressed and before I knew it, I was in my small town's general hospital. It was almost 11 PM by then. I got tested, and for some reason I... I don't know why, but I lied. I wasn't hurting anymore. I didn't feel pain - And the discomfort I felt? I found it to be almost the same with the discomfort I'd feel when pressed on the left side of my torso. I wasn't in pain when I hoped on one leg. But my brain just instructed me to say I did. And so, I was send up for an ultrasound. Nothing there and nothing on the blood and urine tests, either. But just to be safe, I was sent to a bigger city's hospital, which was just an hour and a half away.

FRIDAY

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Needless to say that I was beginning to regret my questionable decision to lie. We rode into the night, both my parents. I fell asleep in the car. It was now quite late - Nearing 3 AM. Time passed so quickly, yet so slowly. I hated every inch of myself for deciding to lie just a few hours ago - And if that wasn't enough, by then I felt zero pain. This all felt completely useless. I sighed as another doctor took my blood and inserted an IV drip in the exact same location. Yet, once again, I lied. I didn't feel pain - But I pretended. My right leg shot up the moment the doctor applied any amount of pressure on my appendicitis area - And, I lied about having a symptom. Then again, perhaps it wasn't a total lie. Maybe the diarrhea thing was, but maybe the discomfort I felt could be classified as pain? Most importantly, I couldn't differentiate whether I was forcing my leg up whenever pressure was applied in my appendix area. Of course, they sent me up to get an upper body x-ray, as well as another ultrasound. I was tired. With the more advanced technology, they saw some fluids in the ultrasound - Which, according to them, were rarely linked to appendicitis, unless there has a much larger buildup. There was barely enough to even be worth jotting down. Unfortunately, I was admitted. This would mean that I would miss out on the event my school was holding on Friday. I was absolutely bummed, but with it being four AM, all I wanted was some sleep and to get the hell out of here as soon as humanly possible.

I was placed in a room with two other boys my age - One had an appendectomy done and the other was probably going to have the same done to him in the morning. I slept uncomfortably in the hospital bed and was woken up in less than 4 hours so the main doctor and his team could test me. I was grumpy, hungry, most importantly, NOT in pain. But I lied. Again. Over and over, I lied. And they applied pressure in the area time and time again alike, trying to connect the lack of symptoms with these reactions I was having.

In all truth, I begun to tell them that I wasn't in pain. I only felt some discomfort when they pressed on the area, but I guess it was too late. They were already searching for what was wrong - Already searching for the missing piece, attempting to finish this stupid puzzle. And that's when I begun to question myself - WHAT was I doing? No matter how much I thought, I couldn't figure it out. And was I really such a good actress, or was this not acting to begin this, but rather, my subconscious trying to warn me. That's when the head doctor called my mom out the room - When she came back, she looked upset. I immediately read the situation:

Appendectomy it was.

It was far too late - Even if I told the doctors about my concerns, best case scenario they'd send me to the hospital's psych ward, where they would probably just diagnose me with munchausen syndrome (=type of mental illness where the patient fakes being sick for attention)! So I just... Accepted my fate. I mean, the appendix is quite literally useless. However, I did voice my concerns to my head-doctor, with a much mentally sane wording that is, who just promised me to take a picture of my appendix during the surgery to prove to me that I actually had to get it removed. I shrugged and just waited. An anesthesiologist took my measurements and medical history and before long, nurses came in and instructed me to undress, after requesting for the male patients to leave the room that is. I took a deep breath, removed my clothes and earrings and layed on the carrier bed, where they covered me with a blue sheet before wheeling me to the operating rooms. It was very cold down there, and I began to shiver; But I quickly deduced that my trembling didn't just have to do with the chilly temperature of the operating rooms. This did not stop me from smiling, of course. My crooked teeth were on display, and all the surgeons made sure to comment on it, questioning how a 14 year-old could be so excited about having an organ of hers removed. I put on a calm facade as they asked me several questions - I in turn did the same, asking about their job and all. Eventually, a nurse brought a syringe and injected some sort of fluid in me intravenously.

"So, how come a girl like you likes football?" She said while pushing down on the end of the syringe.

"This is the anesthetic, isn't it?" And I was out before I got an answer.

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"<<cyrki>>, how are you?" The doctor shook me awake after taking my temperature. It was no more than 35c/95F.

"interesting experience.." I replied, still under the influence of anesthesia, before blacking out once more.

THE AFTERMATH

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I needn't go into detail describing my experience staying at the hospital - The troubles I had shitting and urinating are something I rather take to my grave.

And, for the record, a picture was taken.

Strangely enough, my appendix wasn't only inflamed, it was HUGE, and not just according to me.

Yet, even right before the surgery, I felt minimal pain. I have no idea what drove me to lie, really - Part of me just believes that this was just a coincidence, but then again, that's too much of a drag. Would it be insane for me to believe and say that my subconscious knew all along, instructing my brain to continue spouting bullcrap? The only other logical explanation I could come across is that maybe the IV fluids disintegrated the pain. But that's not what IV fluids do, is it? Correct me if I'm wrong, but they only serve the purpose of hydrating you and keeping the vein open to insert any antibiotic necessary throughout the day.

In the end, it doesn't really matter. We caught it just in time and now, a week later, i'm alive and well. What can I say? Maybe I should start trusting my gut feeling a bit more after this.