In short, I looked like a skinny Macklemore.
After admiring my stylish new do and considering it for a little longer than I should have a brushed off the temptation and asked him to make it all short. Because of how much he took off the sides he almost had to give me a buzz cut to make it uniform again. But despite looking like I just came from basic training I'm grateful that I won't have to get it cut again for a while.
Two saturdays ago I woke up with an intense pain in my stomach that lasted all day and into the night. We went to the nearest clinic to figure out what was wrong and after a few tests and being fed an entire bottle of who knows what through a tube in my arm they couldn't figure it out and sent me to the hospital for further investigation. In the E.R. I went through more tests and again drank my fill through my arm. I was told that I had food poisoning and it was nothing to worry about. By this time the pain had subsided (due to all the mysterious fluids in my bloodstream) and we traveled back to our apartment at about 1:00 am. The next day however, despite the medications the doctor had sent me home with the pain intensified and once again we made the long journey back to the E.R. After about an hour of waiting on the same bed as the previous night and being pumped full of the same clear fluids I'd become so familiar with the doctor informed me that the pain was coming from my appendix and that they'd have to remove it the next day.
"Well gee doc, you know I'm kinda frustrated with my appendix right now but isn't that a little extreme?"
Unfortunately though when your guts decide to throw a tantrum some of them don't get a second chance. The next day after wheeling me into the operating room they set me on a tiny green table and hooked me up to a funny looking mask and I was out cold. The next thing I remember I was slowly blinking back into consciousness and taking in my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was a small, clear tube still protruding from my abdomen draining what was left of my infection into a plastic bag. I find it ironic how for the previous three days they kept me hooked up to countless IV tubes pumping fluids into me, and now I was lying in a hospital bed with a tube pumping liquids out of me. Sheesh. However, more painful than discovering a tube stitched to my stomach was realizing that I was the awkward third wheel in between a young nurse and a doctor's assistant who wouldn't stop flirting as they wheeled me back to my room. I was a rare occasion when the hospital attendants ended up increasing my nausea instead of reducing it.
I know there were a lot of prayers sent my way this week, and I want to thank each and every one for that. I can't express my gratitude for the love and faith which I felt this week. I know I joke about my experience at the hospital but overall everything was great. the surgery went flawlessly, I was taken very good care of, and I'm making a very speedy recovery. Thanks again for all your prayers everyone, they made all the difference. :)
Anyways until next time everyone remember to hold on to you innards, because you never know when you might loose one. ;)