My Own Personal Appendectomy
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Warning, pictures of surgery below (not graphic, because I normally squirm at these things).
Come night time Wednesday 2nd May, my day had gone well, revision was on schedule, I was trying a new mouth wash and all was sweet and well. The hard grind of revision, project work and coursework was under way and uni life was as any hectic third term normally is. I think I'd just released my latest fb2k config that day also. At 5 am I was awoken with awful stomach pains; a horrible gripping feeling as though my digestive sack was being used as a stress ball by an over worked underpaid office employee. I couldn't sleep through it so I grabbed some crackers and made some quick fb2k updates until I felt duly capable of heading back to the land of nod.
Thursday was much the same, only worse. I'd hoped the pain would have left me; maybe it was just me lying awkwardly or some bad sausages from the champions league BBQ. I set about revision as normal, struggling to get anything done, some Ibuprofen helped and I continued through until the afternoon thinking I had past the worst of it. With late afternoon the painkillers rescinded and I was thrown full-whack back into the torment of having my digestive tract deciding it wanted to leave my body by turning itself into a truncheon and beating its way out from the inside. Gaviscon stomach sweets failed, as did all the anti-acids and little tricks like drinking Milk or eating dried foods. With the doctors now shut and at a loss for what to do, I tried to simply just rest, sit back and watch a film - I chose one I wouldn't particularly care if I enjoyed or not (My Super Ex-Girlfriend - don't watch this). By the end of the film my intestinal baton had grown spikes in a stepped up bid to escape. I was bent double and in agony with a stomach pain that hadn't caused sickness. I called NHS Direct (with my mum's advice and diligence in finding a Skype compatible number) and they soon advised me to get myself checked out ASAP, just as a precaution. With the walk-in centre shut it was off to accident and emergency.
My very kind accommodation warden drove my friend and I there where we started to wait. One hour later I saw the triage and enjoyed blood sugar tests, blood pressure tests and the usual check-up mumbo jumbo. With intensifying pain, growing hunger and tiredness the two hour wait to see a doctor was horrible. Mid-wait my official accom' warden, Adam, turned up and swapped shifts, bringing crossword entertainment, although we never completed a single one. Both wardens were especially helpful and I wish to thank them both very much for their efforts and care. At 1am I was called into see the doctor, he prodded me and asked where the pain was, whether I'd been ill, etc. He did a blood test and issued an abdomen X-ray. Half an hour later, lying on my back, I was wheeled into the X-ray room and wheeled back out again moments later.
Lying on a bed had its benefits and coping with the wait was not as bad, though just as painful. It wasn't until 4:30 am that someone came to see me and tell me I was heading to the critical decision unit where a surgeon would later see me. At 5 am they decided to keep me in for the night until next morning's breakfast, see how I was then after some food and take it from there. With this news both my friend (thanks Steven!) and warden were relieved to be able to go home whilst I tried to get whatever kip I could. Come 8 am I was up and ready for brekkie! Whilst the patients around me were being served up Weetabix and porridge an important looking fellow associated with the university (with a number of students around him) informed me that I did indeed have Appendicits and that I would be needing surgery sometime during the day.
Whilst in the process of letting whoever I could know what was going on a bubbly anaesthetist explained the procedure to me and said I would be prep'd for surgery within half an hour. And that was that, before I knew it an IV was being put in, pads stuck on and general anesthetic administered, "You'll be asleep within 20 seconds"... I remember thinking, "I don't feel tired".
Here's a video of a keyhole appendectomy, not mine I might add:
I woke up at about 12:30pm in the recovery ward, dreamy and blissfully enjoying my deep sleep and distinct lack of pain. About half an hour later I was fully awake and another cheery nurse wheeled me to my ward. As the anaesthetic wore off some pain returned (including a sore throat because of the tubes they had to give me) but I was much more comfortable than before, I was soon happy to see my grandpa, sister and girlfriend shortly followed by Steven and my warden.
My recovery was (mostly) a smooth one. For the duration of my stay the IV remained attached, through which I was fed and administered the necessary antibiotics. 4-hourly pulse, temperature and blood pressure tests were given; my temperature was high each time ( 37.5) and I was given paracetamol to bring it down. The only problem I had was a growingly uncomfortable and soon to be painful feeling which mounted in the hours after surgery; in short I was having problems taking a piss. The nurse suggested I may need a catheter but before getting one did a quick ultrasound to check if my bladder was full, her response upon seeing the result was quite comic and she soon returned tubes in hand. My bladder was so full it was putting enormous amounts of pressure on my back, wound and abdomen, which suffice to say, hurt a lot. The bladder can typically hold 0.6 litres, within 15 minutes of the catheter being added the bag was up to 1.5 litres, and reached 2 litres before the hour mark. Time for the great British pun, "that really takes the piss". A catheter is quite uncomfortable and it dramatically reduces your mobility, even when you're tied down to an IV, its removal was also quite painful. Getting it put in wasn't too bad, but I was probably still seeing the influences of some anaesthetic.
All this took place at the brand new University Hospital (UHCW) outside of Coventry. It really is a beautifully new, clean and impressive place. I particularly enjoyed their bed-entertainment suite, which, for £3.20, gave me 24 hours of freeview digital letting me watch the morning football round-up, some Jeeves and Worcester and quite painfully with stifled laughter "Have I Got News for You".
My stitches are all internal and set to "dissolve" in the next few days, hopefully I'll be right as rain in no time. This is my wound as it stands (oooh skin!) - doesn't look too bad.
Come night time Wednesday 2nd May, my day had gone well, revision was on schedule, I was trying a new mouth wash and all was sweet and well. The hard grind of revision, project work and coursework was under way and uni life was as any hectic third term normally is. I think I'd just released my latest fb2k config that day also. At 5 am I was awoken with awful stomach pains; a horrible gripping feeling as though my digestive sack was being used as a stress ball by an over worked underpaid office employee. I couldn't sleep through it so I grabbed some crackers and made some quick fb2k updates until I felt duly capable of heading back to the land of nod.
Thursday was much the same, only worse. I'd hoped the pain would have left me; maybe it was just me lying awkwardly or some bad sausages from the champions league BBQ. I set about revision as normal, struggling to get anything done, some Ibuprofen helped and I continued through until the afternoon thinking I had past the worst of it. With late afternoon the painkillers rescinded and I was thrown full-whack back into the torment of having my digestive tract deciding it wanted to leave my body by turning itself into a truncheon and beating its way out from the inside. Gaviscon stomach sweets failed, as did all the anti-acids and little tricks like drinking Milk or eating dried foods. With the doctors now shut and at a loss for what to do, I tried to simply just rest, sit back and watch a film - I chose one I wouldn't particularly care if I enjoyed or not (My Super Ex-Girlfriend - don't watch this). By the end of the film my intestinal baton had grown spikes in a stepped up bid to escape. I was bent double and in agony with a stomach pain that hadn't caused sickness. I called NHS Direct (with my mum's advice and diligence in finding a Skype compatible number) and they soon advised me to get myself checked out ASAP, just as a precaution. With the walk-in centre shut it was off to accident and emergency.
My very kind accommodation warden drove my friend and I there where we started to wait. One hour later I saw the triage and enjoyed blood sugar tests, blood pressure tests and the usual check-up mumbo jumbo. With intensifying pain, growing hunger and tiredness the two hour wait to see a doctor was horrible. Mid-wait my official accom' warden, Adam, turned up and swapped shifts, bringing crossword entertainment, although we never completed a single one. Both wardens were especially helpful and I wish to thank them both very much for their efforts and care. At 1am I was called into see the doctor, he prodded me and asked where the pain was, whether I'd been ill, etc. He did a blood test and issued an abdomen X-ray. Half an hour later, lying on my back, I was wheeled into the X-ray room and wheeled back out again moments later.
Lying on a bed had its benefits and coping with the wait was not as bad, though just as painful. It wasn't until 4:30 am that someone came to see me and tell me I was heading to the critical decision unit where a surgeon would later see me. At 5 am they decided to keep me in for the night until next morning's breakfast, see how I was then after some food and take it from there. With this news both my friend (thanks Steven!) and warden were relieved to be able to go home whilst I tried to get whatever kip I could. Come 8 am I was up and ready for brekkie! Whilst the patients around me were being served up Weetabix and porridge an important looking fellow associated with the university (with a number of students around him) informed me that I did indeed have Appendicits and that I would be needing surgery sometime during the day.
Whilst in the process of letting whoever I could know what was going on a bubbly anaesthetist explained the procedure to me and said I would be prep'd for surgery within half an hour. And that was that, before I knew it an IV was being put in, pads stuck on and general anesthetic administered, "You'll be asleep within 20 seconds"... I remember thinking, "I don't feel tired".
Here's a video of a keyhole appendectomy, not mine I might add:
I woke up at about 12:30pm in the recovery ward, dreamy and blissfully enjoying my deep sleep and distinct lack of pain. About half an hour later I was fully awake and another cheery nurse wheeled me to my ward. As the anaesthetic wore off some pain returned (including a sore throat because of the tubes they had to give me) but I was much more comfortable than before, I was soon happy to see my grandpa, sister and girlfriend shortly followed by Steven and my warden.
My recovery was (mostly) a smooth one. For the duration of my stay the IV remained attached, through which I was fed and administered the necessary antibiotics. 4-hourly pulse, temperature and blood pressure tests were given; my temperature was high each time ( 37.5) and I was given paracetamol to bring it down. The only problem I had was a growingly uncomfortable and soon to be painful feeling which mounted in the hours after surgery; in short I was having problems taking a piss. The nurse suggested I may need a catheter but before getting one did a quick ultrasound to check if my bladder was full, her response upon seeing the result was quite comic and she soon returned tubes in hand. My bladder was so full it was putting enormous amounts of pressure on my back, wound and abdomen, which suffice to say, hurt a lot. The bladder can typically hold 0.6 litres, within 15 minutes of the catheter being added the bag was up to 1.5 litres, and reached 2 litres before the hour mark. Time for the great British pun, "that really takes the piss". A catheter is quite uncomfortable and it dramatically reduces your mobility, even when you're tied down to an IV, its removal was also quite painful. Getting it put in wasn't too bad, but I was probably still seeing the influences of some anaesthetic.
All this took place at the brand new University Hospital (UHCW) outside of Coventry. It really is a beautifully new, clean and impressive place. I particularly enjoyed their bed-entertainment suite, which, for £3.20, gave me 24 hours of freeview digital letting me watch the morning football round-up, some Jeeves and Worcester and quite painfully with stifled laughter "Have I Got News for You".
My stitches are all internal and set to "dissolve" in the next few days, hopefully I'll be right as rain in no time. This is my wound as it stands (oooh skin!) - doesn't look too bad.
That wound is just on the belt line which has meant this past week I've had to wear my trousers like all those hip boxer showing kids do these days.
Labels: Life
Posted by FofR
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