Never Simple

I like to think of myself as a simple man, neither dull nor extraordinary, getting through life as best as I can, trying to avoid adding chaos while still trying to bring joy to me and those around me.

When I felt a bit ill, on Sunday evening, I hoped it was a symptom of fatigue from the weekend's activities, mixed with a bit of stress over this coming weekend's Photo Synthesis art exhibit vernissage, where three Eastern Ontario photographers and I will be showing some of our work and meeting patrons of Arbor Gallery, in Vankleek Hill.

A good night's rest, I told myself, is all I needed. Simple.

However, when I woke up on Monday, I had a cramping pain in my abdomen and had a headache. It almost felt like a major hangover from a night of binging, even though I hadn't consumed more than a half pint of beer on Sunday afternoon. I had eaten well and healthily, and had gone to bed at a decent hour.

Apart from having felt a little off, the night before, there was no foreseeing that I'd feel so rough the next morning.

I called in sick, and confined myself to bed. Eventually, the headache subsided but the pain in my abdomen grew worse. I hadn't eaten for the entire day, until dinner, when DW convinced me to eat a bit of the pasta she had prepared.

After dinner, I went back to bed.

That's right: I look JUST like that!

On Tuesday, I felt even worse, with the pain in my belly changing from a generalized ache to an acute sensation in one place, in my lower-right abdomen. Worried that I might have appendicitis, I called my doctor and made an appointment, and was seen just after lunch.

My temperature was taken (normal), blood pressure tested (normal), and poked in the belly (not normal). It was suggested that I might, indeed, have appendicitis, and an appointment was made for me to have an ultrasound.

Simple, straight to the heart of the matter.

My ultrasound was first thing on Wednesday morning. The technician was highly trained and was able to detect an inflammation of my appendix.

"What's the next step?" I asked.

"Hospital," was the response. "Today. Now." I was assured that the appendix hadn't ruptured, that I might have a day or two, but that I shouldn't wait until it's too late. "If it stops hurting," I was told, "it's because it has burst. You want to be able to feel it."

I took the time to go home and collect DW, and to let my coworkers know that I'd be off for the rest of the week.

The emergency room was packed. I have to say that I have such a high respect for our healthcare workers. Even in the face of such chaos, where patients were screaming at them and voicing their impatience, the nurses and doctors never wavered from the task at hand, triaging those in need of urgent care and telling the others to wait their turn.

A sign at the entrance warned patients that there was a minimum wait time of eight hours just to see a doctor.

My doctor had called the hospital ahead of time. The imaging clinic had already sent the scan results but had sent me a CD with the results as well. And while I still had to submit myself to the triage nurse and register, I was quickly processed with blood and urine samples.

Within two hours, I was given a CT scan. It confirmed, in clearer detail, that indeed I had appendicitis. Surgery was required and I was passed on to a surgeon.

It sounds like I had a simple case that was caught and easily treatable. After all, I'm a simple man—or at least I like to consider myself simple.

But when it comes to my physical health, things are rarely simple.

I used to have extraordinary vision until my early 40s. I could do that Bugs Bunny trick of reading every line on an eye chart, including the copyright statement at the bottom.

My feet had a rare disease that rarely affects both. I had it in both.

And now, with my appendicitis, just before I was to be scheduled for surgery, the new doctor found a complication.

It seems that there's an infection that has not only inflamed my appendix but the intestine tract connected to it. A thick mucus has enveloped the area, making it hard to see whether the issue is confined to my appendix.

The surgeon said that if she were to operate today, she would have to remove all of the inflamed area, which would include half of my colon.

Not so simple.

She suggested, instead, that we treat the infection around the appendix with strong antibiotics and see what's left. In a couple of weeks, we'd perform the appendectomy.

Assuming it doesn't burst, first.

I was given the option of being admitted to a room for 24-hour observation. I could also receive the first dose of antibiotics and pain meds, intravenously, and then sent home with prescriptions. I would report back if things didn't improve.

If I developed a fever or the pain increased, I was to get back to the hospital immediately. The surgeon also gave me her number.

That's what I did. I don't like spending more time in a hospital than need be. There are too many sick folks there.

There are only two more days until the Photo Synthesis vernissage and I'm going to do everything I can to be there.

Plain and simple. Wish me luck.

BTW: Beer O'Clock is postponed until my appendix is fixed and I'm able to resume beer consumption.